kim seokjin

look what you make me do

min yoongi

dirty little secret + namjoon

lazy post concert sex (drabble)

jung hoseok

house party

kim namjoon

dirty little secret + yoongi

the dragon’s shadow - chapter 1

the dragon’s shadow - chapter 2

daddy’s brat

park jimin

jimin who… (drabble)

kim taehyung

the notebook - part 1

the notebook - part 2

the notebook - part 3

the notebook - part 4

jeon jungkook

parent’s bedroom

a whole week had passed and taehyung had disappeared just like he said he would. no texts. no calls. you knew you weren’t dating him, knew this thing between you was messy and undefined, but the silence still stung. you had stared at your phone every night, telling yourself you didn’t care, that you weren’t waiting for anything from him. but you were. and that made you even angrier.

monday at school you finally cornered your friend near the lockers.

“why the hell did you give taehyung my number?” you asked, arms crossed.

she blinked, surprised. “what? i thought you… he asked and you two seemed… to have something going on. i figured it was fine.”

“it wasn’t your place to decide that, you had no right.” you snapped. “and i know you did it just to get jungkook’s number, how easy do you sell me out?”

she frowned. “you know i’ve liked him for the longest time and you’ve been weird about taehyung since that day you skipped class. i thought— maybe you were seeing each other or something. i thought i was helping.”

“you thought wrong,” you cut her off. “don’t do shit like that again.”

the argument was short but ugly. you stopped talking to her for the rest of the week. you didn’t know why you were so mad at her. she was right, after all — you had been having something with taehyung since that day. but maybe deep down you couldn’t even admit it to yourself how much you were enjoying the pull he had on you and the way he made you feel completely out of control. it was easier to stay angry. now you ate lunch alone, walked the halls alone, went straight home after the last bell. your life had shrunk to school and your bedroom. lonely didn’t even begin to cover it.

one evening while helping your mom in the kitchen you brought it up.

“mom, why did the kims all left town so suddenly?” you asked, chopping vegetables.

she wiped her hands on a towel. “i don’t know, all they told me was that they had a family emergency or something. they gave me the keys last friday and just asked me to keep the house clean while they’re gone. god knows what kind of problems these rich people have.”

you frowned. “they couldn’t just let you have a few days off? what’s there to clean if no one’s there?”

your mom laughed softly. “it’s okay, honey. image is everything to these people. they’d rather have someone watching their perfect mansion than give anyone a break.”

finally, friday evening came with heavy summer rain drumming against the windows. your mom had left for the weekend to visit your grandparents, but you stayed behind in hopes that maybe — just maybe — taehyung would at least say something. you hated how pathetic that felt, waiting around for a boy who probably didn’t even think about you for the whole week, but you couldn’t help it. the house was too quiet, too empty, and your mind was too loud. you were curled up on the couch, mindlessly watching tv, when your phone buzzed.

taehyung: can i come over?

the message was so normal it caught you off guard. no teasing, no commands, just a simple question. you stared at it for almost a minute before replying.

you: yeah, sure.

barely five minutes later there was a knock at the door. you opened it and the sight of him made your chest tighten. taehyung looked nothing like the polished, cocky boy you were so used to seeing. his black button-up was wrinkled and half undone, sleeves pushed up messily. his hair was wet and messy from the rain, strands sticking to his forehead. his eyes looked tired, hazy, like he hadn’t slept properly in days. there was a faint bruise on his jaw and a fresh scratch peeking from his collarbone.

before you could even say anything, he stepped inside and pulled you into a kiss. it wasn’t his usual teasing kind. this one was desperate, almost urgent, like he was scared you might disappear. his hands held your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks as he kissed you deeper.

when he finally pulled back you were breathless.

“taehyung… are you okay?” you asked, searching his face. “you look… different.”

he tried to smile, the usual smirk pulling at his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “missed you. couldn’t wait any longer.”

you closed the door behind him and led him to your bedroom, still studying him. “did you walk here?” you grabbed a clean towel from your closet and handed it to him. “dry your hair. you’re soaked.”

he took it and rubbed it over his head half-heartedly, eyes following you as you sat on the edge of the bed.

“how was your week?” you asked carefully.

“fine,” he said too quickly, tossing the towel aside and stepping closer. “just family stuff. boring. i’d rather talk about how much i missed this.” he leaned down, lips brushing your neck, hands sliding to your waist.

you gently pushed his chest. “taehyung. stop.”

he paused, pulling back just enough to look at you. “what?”

“you disappear for a whole week with zero contact and now you show up looking like this and expect me to just… pretend everything’s normal?” you crossed your arms. “where were you? why didn’t you text me even once?”

he sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. “i told you. family stuff. it’s handled now. i came straight here because i wanted to see you.”

you narrowed your eyes. when he leaned in again you placed a hand on his chest, stopping him. “why’s everything such a mystery with you?”

his shirt had slipped lower when he moved. that’s when you saw it clearly — a fresh red scratch across his collarbone, slightly bruised around the edges.

“what happened to your chest?” you asked, voice softer.

he glanced down like he had forgotten it was there. “nothing. it’s fine.”

“taehyung.”

he tried to pull you closer again, lips brushing your jaw. “baby, come on. i just got back. i don’t want to talk about that shit right now. i want you.”

you pushed him back again, firmer this time. “i’m serious. if you expect anything to happen tonight, you need to start talking. if not, you can leave.”

he stared at you for a long moment, jaw tight. the usual cocky mask cracked just a little. finally he sat down heavily on the edge of the bed beside you and let out a long breath.

“it was my sister,” he said quietly.

you blinked. “you have a sister?”

“yeah. older sister. she doesn’t live with us. she… got problems.” he rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. “drug stuff. my parents try to hide it from everyone. they say she stains the family image. she got in trouble again, we had to go deal with it. try to get her into rehab again.”

you stayed quiet, listening intently, your eyes widening slightly as the new information settled over you like a heavy weight. the perfect kim family you had always imagined suddenly felt a lot less perfect.

he chuckled, head lowering. “my parents mostly yelled at her. told her she’s the disgrace of the family, the usual. she got angry. didn’t wanna go to rehab and scratched me during one of the fights when i was trying to hold her back. i’m used to it by now.”

the silence stretched between you. you had always assumed the kims were this flawless, wealthy, untouchable unit. hearing this felt like the ground had shifted.

“remember that call i got the other night?” he raised his head to look at you, a familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “the one you got all jealous about?” you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes. “that was her,” he said, voice quieter now. “i called her back after i dropped you off. she was having one of those nights again.” he let out a short, humorless breath. “told you it was gonna ruin the night if i picked it up.”

you felt stupid looking back at that moment.

“i’m sorry,” you said softly. “that sounds horrible.”

he shrugged like it was nothing. “it’s whatever. she’ll be in rehab for a while. or at least until she runs away again.”

you reached out and gently touched his arm. for the first time you saw something vulnerable in his eyes before he quickly looked away.

“you don’t have to act like it doesn’t affect you.” you said quietly.

he didn’t answer at first, his eyes coming back to roam over your face, examining you before sighing quietly. “it’s over now.” he licked his lips, arms wrapping around your waist tightly, pulling you onto his lap so you straddled him. “all i care about is this now,” he murmured against your neck, voice lower, almost rough with need. “couldn’t stop thinking about you the whole week.”

his hands roamed slowly over your body — up your back, down to your hips, then under your shirt to feel your bare skin. his lips pressed soft, lingering kisses along your jaw, then lower, sucking lightly at the sensitive spot just below your ear. you felt yourself melting despite everything that had just been said, the familiar heat already building between your legs.

“did you have any other cock while i was gone?” he asked, teasing, lips brushing your ear. “you said some shit last time. i didn’t forget.”

you rolled your eyes even as you tilted your head to give him better access. “wouldn’t you like to know.”

he chuckled darkly and yanked your head back by your hair, exposing your neck completely. the sharp tug made you gasp. “say that again and i’ll make you regret it,” he warned, voice low and dangerous. “no one else gets to have you. understand?”

you nodded, the movement limited by his grip. already you were grinding down on his lap instinctively, feeling him harden beneath you through his pants.

“look at you,” he murmured, releasing your hair only to slide both hands to your ass, squeezing and guiding your hips. “already desperately grinding on me like you can’t help yourself. something tells me you missed this cock.” you pulsed at his words, a soft whimper escaping. “show me how much.”

you kept moving, rolling your hips slowly at first, then harder, gripping his shoulders for balance. soft moans slipped out as the friction built, the rough fabric of his pants dragging against your shorts in the most frustrating way. he leaned back on his hands, head tilting slightly, watching you with dark satisfaction, eyes half-lidded.

“that’s it, baby,” he groaned. “use me. show me exactly how much you want to be fucked.”

you whimpered louder, grinding harder, chasing the pressure. he reached down between you, sliding his hand into your shorts without warning. his fingers found you immediately — soaked and hot.

“fuck… dripping already,” he groaned, voice thick. he pulled his hand out slowly, showing you the slick coating his fingers, then he brought them to his mouth and sucked them clean, eyes locked on yours the entire time. “taste so fucking good. missed this too.”

he kissed you then, deep and messy, tongue sliding into your mouth so you could taste yourself on him. when he pulled back he was breathing harder, pupils blown.

“get on your knees,” he ordered, voice rough.

you didn’t hesitate. you slid down between his legs as he shifted, pulling his pants lower and freeing his cock. it sprang out thick and hard, already leaking at the tip. you wrapped your lips around him without being told twice, taking him deep, determined to make him feel as desperate as he always made you.

he groaned, head falling back. “shit… just like that.” his hand came up to wrap around your hair, not forcing or tugging yet, just holding firmly, grounding himself.

you sucked him eagerly, tongue swirling around the head before taking him deeper, until you were gagging softly, tears starting to pool at the corners of your eyes. the wet sounds filled the quiet room. you felt him trying to pull you off as he got closer, cock twitching hard inside your mouth, broken moans slipping from his throat — but you kept going. for once you wanted to push him over the edge first.

“baby— fuck… i’m gonna cum like that,” he warned, grip tightening in your hair.

you didn’t stop. you hollowed your cheeks and took him as deep as you could. he came hard down your throat with a loud, broken groan, hips twitching, spilling everything. you swallowed every drop, looking up at him with watery eyes and swollen lips.

he pulled you up roughly, breathing ragged, eyes dark and almost angry with how much he liked it. “greedy little slut,” he rasped. “couldn’t help but milk me dry, huh? wanted to taste me that bad?”

you smirked, still catching your breath. the next second he flipped you onto your back in one smooth motion, yanking your shirt and shorts off along with your panties with impatient hands, almost ripping the fabric in the process.

he spread your thighs wide, staring down at your dripping pussy with pure hunger. “so fucking pretty,” he muttered. “look how wet you are for me.”

he kissed down your body slowly this time — lingering on your neck, sucking marks into your breasts, dragging his tongue over your stomach — until his mouth finally reached your core. he ate you like a man starved, tongue licking broad, filthy strokes from your entrance up to your clit before sucking hard. you cried out, fingers tangling tightly in his hair as he devoured you, the wet sounds obscene in the quiet room.

it didn’t take long at all before your first orgasm crashed through you, thighs shaking around his head, body giving away just how much you had craved his touch all week. he didn’t stop. instead he pushed two thick fingers inside you, curling them perfectly against that spot while his tongue kept working your swollen clit. the pressure built again, sharper, almost overwhelming. your hips bucked up against his face.

“do it again, baby,” he groaned against your clit, fingers sinking deeper and faster, feeling your walls flutter desperately around him. “one more. give it to me.”

“taehyung— i’m gonna—”

you came hard again, a broken cry tearing from your throat. he held you tightly by your hip, keeping you in place as you squirmed from the intensity, licking up every drop like he couldn’t get enough.

“good girl,” he rasped, climbing up your body, eyes dark with approval. you felt him already hard again against your thigh. he rolled you over with firm hands, and you whined as he pulled your hips up, propping your ass in the air. he smacked it twice, the sharp sting making you moan and push back toward him.

he rubbed the thick head of his cock against your folds, teasing, sliding through your slick without pushing in. “how much do you want it?”

“please,” you whimpered, trying to push back onto him. “so bad… want you to fuck me so bad. i need you inside me.”

“fuck…” he pushed in slowly at first, letting you feel every thick inch stretch you open. your eyes rolled back at the perfect burn. then he started picking up the pace, fucking you hard and deep right away. his chest pressed against your back, one hand wrapping around your throat so he could turn your head and kiss you messily over your shoulder.

“touch yourself,” he ordered against your lips. “you’re gonna cum again. do you want that, baby? wanna cum on my cock while i fill you up?”

you whimpered in response, reaching down between your legs to rub your clit as he pounded into you, the wet sound of skin meeting skin filling the room.

“yeah, i know you do,” he groaned, fucking you even deeper, hitting that spot with every thrust. the angle was perfect. soon your third orgasm hit fast and intense, walls clenching hard around him as you cried out his name.

he followed right after, burying himself to the hilt and cumming deep inside you with a low, drawn-out groan, hips jerking as he filled you.

you both collapsed onto the bed, breathing heavily, bodies sticky and spent. he pulled you into his arms carefully, brushing the damp hair from your face and kissing your forehead softly, then your cheeks, then the corner of your mouth.

“so fucking good for me.” he whispered against your skin.

after a few quiet minutes of just breathing together, he shifted slightly, fingers still tracing slow patterns on your bare arm.

“your mom’s not home?” he asked, voice quieter than usual.

you nodded against his chest. “no. she’s gone for the weekend, visiting my grandparents.”

he hesitated, the silence stretching just long enough for you to feel the weight of whatever he was about to say. “can i sleep over?” he asked finally. “i… don’t want to go back to that house tonight.”

you looked up at him. the exhaustion was clear in his eyes, but underneath it was something almost like fear. for once he wasn’t performing.

you nodded. “okay.”

he let out a small breath that sounded almost like relief.

you got up carefully, legs still a little unsteady, and went to your mom’s room. in the back of the closet you found an old pair of your dad’s sweatpants and a plain soft t-shirt. when you handed them to him he looked surprised.

“isn’t it weird to wear your dad’s clothes?” he asked, a small chuckle in his voice as he started changing.

you laughed softly. “my dad’s dead. i don’t think it makes much of a difference.”

taehyung’s expression softened immediately. the teasing light left his eyes. “i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay,” you said, smiling at him, gentle. “it’s been years now. i’ve made peace with it.”

he didn’t say anything else, just pulled the t-shirt over his head and then reached for you, warm thumb rubbing gently over your cheek.

later, when the rain had settled into a steady soft rhythm outside, he surprised you by heading into the kitchen and starting to cook. you sat at the table watching him move around like he actually knew what he was doing — chopping green onions, frying rice, adding egg and leftover vegetables with quiet focus.

“i didn’t expect you to know how to cook,” you said, resting your chin on your hand.

“our chef taught me when i was younger,” he answered without looking up. “used to sneak into the kitchen a lot when my parents were busy. he never told them.”

you smiled softly. “that’s… surprisingly normal.”

he glanced over at you then, a small, real smile tugging at his lips. “don’t sound so shocked.”

the smell of the food filled the quiet house, warm and comforting.

“i had a fight with daeun because of you.” you glanced at him through your lashes.

he frowned, looking genuinely confused. “because of me?”

“yeah… because she gave my number away to you.” your voice came out quieter than you meant it to.

he stared at you for a short second before laughing out loud, the sound surprising in the otherwise still kitchen. “you fought because of that? why?”

you felt your cheeks burning. hearing it out loud made it sound even more ridiculous.

“she had no right to just give it to you,” you said, frustrated. “what if you wanted to harm me or something? she doesn’t know anything about you or us.”

he stopped laughing and went back to stirring the vegetables into the rice, still amused. “how would i harm you through the phone?” he raised an eyebrow at you.

you swallowed dry, looking away. “whatever…”

“jungkook texted me about her, actually,” he continued. your head snapped back toward him. “he was pretty pissed i gave his number away too.” he chuckled. “but then he said at least she was cute. he wouldn’t mind smashing.”

you rolled your eyes. “tell him not to play with her heart. she gets attached easily.”

taehyung raised an eyebrow, a slow, knowing look crossing his face. “like you?”

your face heated instantly. “what do you mean like me? i don’t get attached.”

he watched you for a second longer than necessary, eyes unreadable. “good,” he said simply.

the word stung more than you wanted to admit. you looked down at the plate he was setting in front of you.

“can’t deal with that kind of shit right now,” he added as he sat down across from you, immediately shoving a spoonful of rice into his mouth.

“no one’s asking you to.” the words came out sharper and quicker than you intended. so much so that taehyung stopped mid-bite and looked at you with mild surprise.

he nodded after a second, a small, almost barely-there smile tugging at the corner of his mouth before disappearing again behind the spoon.

you both ate in silence, the air between you heavier than before but somehow still comfortable. he didn’t push the conversation further, and you didn’t either. for a moment you thought about how much that one simple word had affected you.

you never thought about anything more of this situationship, you never even particularly liked him before all of this started. he was just the arrogant, popular boy who somehow ended up under your skin. so why was that single word lingering in your mind for so long? why did it hurt to know he didn’t see anything past this?

you were out with your friends at the bar you all loved, the drinks were flowing easy, laughter loud and warm, and everything felt light and fun. jin had sent you off earlier with that soft smile of his and a gentle kiss to your forehead. his voice had been calm, no jealousy or lectures, just that simple request he always made. “text me from time to time, okay princess? just so i know you’re safe and having fun. that’s all i ask.” you had nodded, promised like you always did, and meant it in the moment.

but the night got away from you. shots turned into more shots, stories got funnier, the music louder, and your phone stayed buried in your bag under old receipts and makeup. you didn’t feel it buzz and you didn’t think to check. the alcohol made everything fuzzy and golden, and for once you weren’t thinking about rules or updates. your friends were dancing in the booth, pulling you up with them, and time just slipped.

back at the apartment jin was trying not to spiral. he sent the first few texts around ten, casual and sweet. “having a good time? miss you already.” then “don’t forget to let me know you’re okay when you can.” by eleven he was checking his phone more often. “baby? everything alright?” twelve came and went with no reply. he tried calling once, then twice. voicemail both times. his texts got longer, more worried even though he kept telling himself you were probably just having fun and forgot. “it’s getting late. please text me back.” “i’m starting to worry.” “where are you right now?”

he paced the living room, ran a hand through his hair, checked the time again and again. by one in the morning there were dozens of messages. his chest felt tight. he knew you could handle yourself, he wasn’t the type to hover or get possessive, but the silence was eating at him. worst case thoughts crept in no matter how hard he pushed them down. he checked the location sharing you’d both set up months ago for nights like this, just in case. you were still at the bar. that should have calmed him but it didn’t. not after hours of nothing.

“that’s it,” he muttered to himself, grabbing his keys. “i’m going there.”

he drove over calm on the outside, hands steady on the wheel, but his jaw was tight and his mind racing. when he walked into the bar and spotted you, cheeks flushed from drinks and laughter, leaning into one of your friends, the relief hit first like a wave. you were okay. you were laughing. but then his eyes narrowed on the guy standing way too close to you, leaning in with that sleazy grin, clearly trying to buy you another drink and ignoring the way you were politely shifting away. something protective and hot flared in jin’s chest. seeing another man hovering like that while you were tipsy and hadn’t answered him all night set him off more than the silence alone.

he walked straight over, expression calm but his presence suddenly commanding the space. the guy noticed him approaching and straightened up a little, but jin didn’t even glance at you first. he fixed the stranger with a cool, steady stare, voice low and edged enough to make the guy step back instinctively. “she’s not interested. move.” there was no yell, no scene, just that quiet intensity that made the guy mutter something and slink away fast toward the other side of the bar. only then did jin turn to you, placing a gentle but firm hand on your arm. “we’re going home. now.”

you turned so fast you almost spilled what was left of your drink. shock first, then the alcohol made the annoyance flare quick. “jin? what are you doing here? you can’t just show up like this.”

your friends went quiet, eyes wide. he kept his voice low, even, no scene. “you didn’t answer a single message. not one call. i’ve been texting for hours. i was worried out of my mind. get your things. we’re leaving.”

you pulled your arm back, standing up on slightly unsteady legs. “no. i’m fine. i was having fun until you crashed everything. you never do this. why tonight? i told you where i was going.”

he didn’t argue in front of everyone. just took your hand again, firm this time, and started guiding you toward the door with a polite nod to your friends. “sorry to cut it short. she needs to go home.” you tried to dig your heels in but he was stronger, and the look in his eyes said he wasn’t budging. outside he opened the car door for you, helped you in even when you muttered under your breath about him ruining everything.

the drive home was thick with tension. you sat with your arms crossed, the city lights blurring past, the alcohol still buzzing in your veins and making everything feel bigger. “this is bullshit, jin. you tracked my location? that’s so fucked up. i’m not a little girl. i can go out without you showing up like some bodyguard. you embarrassed me in front of everyone.”

he kept his eyes on the road, voice short and quiet like he was holding something back. “i asked you for one thing. text me. you didn’t. i thought something happened to you.”

“i forgot my phone was even there! i got tipsy and we were having a good time. you knew i was out with the girls. you could’ve just waited instead of panicking and driving across town like a crazy person.”

“i waited. for hours. with nothing. you promised, remember? and then i see some fucking guy trying to take advantage of you—“ he caught himself mid sentence, blood boiling in his veins, his grip tightening around the wheel.

you huffed, looking out the window so you didn’t have to see the disappointment on his face. “he wasn’t taking advantage of me and i was handling it. i can take care of myself.” silence settled for a brief second. “well now i’m mad. you dragged me out like i’m some kid who broke curfew.”

he didn’t raise his voice once. just short answers, eyes forward. “i know you can take care of yourself. but you scared me tonight. that’s all.”

the rest of the ride was mostly your ranting and his quiet driving, the air in the car heavy. when you got home he parked, came around to your side, and steadied you with an arm around your waist as you walked inside because your balance was still off. in the bedroom he flicked on the soft lamp and tried again, gentle. “sit down for me. let me help you get ready for bed. you need water, and that makeup’s going to feel awful in the morning if you sleep in it. come on, princess. arms up.”

you swatted at his hands when he reached for the zipper of your dress. “i said i can do it myself. i’m not drunk enough to need a babysitter. just because you decided to ruin my night doesn’t mean you get to undress me now like everything’s fine.”

he sighed, tried once more, softer. “you’re tipsy and you’re going to regret it if you don’t take care of yourself now. let me help. that’s what i’m here for.”

you pushed him this time, hands on his chest, stepping back. “stop. i’m serious. leave me alone, jin. i’m still pissed. you don’t get to act all caring now after what you pulled.”

that was the moment something in him shifted. his eyes darkened, the calm cracking just enough to show the frustration and the leftover fear underneath. he stepped forward, caught your wrists in one hand, not hard but unyielding, and pulled you close until your bodies were flush. his voice dropped lower, still not yelling, but thick with everything he’d been holding in. “enough. i’ve had enough of this tonight.” he gritted his teeth, your eyes widening slightly at the sudden shift. “you made me worry for hours, ignored every single message i sent, acted like it was nothing, and now you’re pushing me away when all i’m trying to do is take care of you after you scared the shit out of me. you’re being an ungrateful little brat and i’m done being patient about it.”

the words landed heavy. you opened your mouth to snap back but he was already moving, backing you toward the bed with that same firm grip on your wrists until the backs of your knees hit the mattress and you sat down hard. he stood over you, breathing a little heavier, jaw tight. “you want to keep fighting me? fine. but you’re going to listen now.”

he kissed you then, rougher than usual, one hand sliding into your hair to tilt your head back and hold you there. it wasn’t gentle or sweet like his normal kisses. it was claiming, a little desperate from the worry that had built all night, and it made heat flood low in your belly even while your anger still simmered. his free hand found the zipper of your dress and yanked it down in one motion, tugging the fabric off your shoulders and down your body without waiting for permission. you gasped into the kiss but didn’t pull away, the mix of emotions making everything sharper.

he stripped you fast after that, bra and panties following, until you were bare on the bed and he was still fully dressed, looking down at you with that mix of scolding and hunger. “on your knees. now.”

you stayed sitting, defiant even as your thighs pressed together. “no. i’m not—”

“yes you are.” he unbuckled his belt, unzipped, and pulled his cock out, long and thick, already hard and flushed from the tension. he gripped your hair again, firmer this time, and guided your face forward until the head brushed your lips. “open your mouth. this is what happens when you act like a brat and make me lose my mind worrying about you. you’re going to shut up and take it like the good girl i know you can be.”

you hesitated, lips parting on instinct, and he took the opportunity, pushing in slow but insistent until your mouth was full. the stretch made your eyes water a little but you didn’t fight it. he groaned low, both hands in your hair now, controlling the movement as he started shallow thrusts. “fuck, that’s it. take it deeper. good girl. your mouth feels so good when it’s not running off and arguing with me.”

he fucked your mouth steady, not cruel but firm, hips rocking forward while he held you in place. saliva dripped down your chin and his voice kept going, low and rough around the edges. “i was so fucking scared something happened to you. thought maybe you got hurt or lost or worse. and there you were, safe, talking to another guy, like a slut.” his thumb rubbed gently at your flushed cheek. “now i have to fuck you like one. see what you make me do, princess? but you like this, don’t you? being put in your place after being such a little brat.”

you moaned around him, the vibration making his hips stutter. he pulled back just enough to let you breathe then pushed in again, deeper. “that’s my princess. taking it so well. but you were bad tonight. very bad. now you get this. you get used until i decide you’ve learned.”

he kept at it for long minutes, praising you between the scolding, telling you how pretty you looked with tears in your eyes and your lips stretched around him. when he finally pulled out you were panting, lips swollen and shiny, and he wiped your mouth with his thumb before lifting you onto the bed properly.

“on your back. spread your legs. let me see that pretty pussy.”

you did it without arguing this time, the fight melting into something hotter. he knelt between your thighs, spreading you wider with his hands, and just looked for a second at how wet you were. “look at this. dripping already. you like sucking my cock that much, huh? or was it me dragging you home and telling you off? like when i get rough with you, hm?

he leaned down and kissed the inside of your thigh, slow and deliberate, then higher, right at the crease where thigh met pussy. you expected him to lick, to dive in the way he usually did when he went down on you, but he didn’t. he kissed your outer folds instead, soft and teasing, barely any pressure. then again. and again. light little pecks that made you twitch and whine. his breath was hot against you but his tongue stayed away from where you needed it most.

“jin, please,” you breathed, hips lifting toward his face.

he chuckled, low and a little mean. “please what? use your words, princess.”

“eat me out. i need your mouth. i’m sorry, okay? i’m sorry for not texting.”

he rewarded you with one slow lick up your slit, just enough to make you moan, then pulled back again. “sorry now? after hours of silence and then pushing me away at home? brats don’t get what they want right away.” he slid two fingers into you easy, curling them just right, pumping slow and deep while his mouth went back to teasing. kisses on your folds, sucking the skin into his mouth gently, then releasing. a tiny flick of tongue over your clit that disappeared the second you bucked. he fingered you steady, scissoring, hitting that spot over and over, but every time you got close he slowed down or pulled his mouth away completely.

you were begging in no time, voice breaking. “please, jin, please just use your mouth. i’ll be good, i promise. i won’t forget again. just please eat me out.”

he added a third finger, stretching you, thrusting faster while he kissed around your clit, never quite giving it the pressure you craved. “not yet. you have to earn it. hear how wet you are for me? this pussy knows who it belongs to even when you’re being difficult.” he kept you on the edge like that for what felt like forever, fingers working you open, mouth teasing everywhere except where you were throbbing, until you were shaking and almost crying from frustration.

finally he pulled his fingers out, licking them clean while looking up at you with dark eyes. “maybe next time if you behave.” before you could protest he flipped you over onto your stomach, making you whine, and pulled your hips up, positioning himself behind you. “ass up. head down. that’s it, princess.”

he rubbed the head of his cock through your folds, teasing your entrance, coating himself in how wet you were. “look what you make me do to you. i have to fuck you rough like this because you don’t listen when i ask nicely. because you made me worry so much i had to come get you myself.”

he pushed in with one hard thrust, bottoming out deep, and you cried out at the sudden stretch. he didn’t give you time to adjust. he started fucking you fast and deep right away, hips snapping against your ass, one hand gripping your waist tight. the sound of skin on skin filled the room. “fuck, so tight. taking me so deep. that’s it, baby.”

he reached forward, wrapped your hair around his fist, and pulled your head back, arching your spine. the tug sent sparks down your back and you moaned louder. he leaned over you, chest to your back, still pounding into you, and used the grip on your hair to turn your head enough to kiss you. it was messy, all tongue and teeth from the angle, but he kissed you hard while he fucked you, swallowing your moans. “let me hear those pretty moans, baby. let me hear how much you like to be fucked like a whore.”

you kissed back as best you could, body rocking with every thrust. he pulled your hair a little harder, angling your head so he could bite at your neck between kisses. “my perfect princess. so good for me now. taking my cock like you were made for it. but you had to be taught tonight, didn’t you? had to make me track you down and drag you home.”

his other hand slipped under you to rub your clit in tight circles, fast and relentless. “cum for me. cum on my cock while i use you like this. show me you’re still my good girl underneath all that attitude.”

you came hard, clenching around him, thighs shaking as the orgasm ripped through you. he fucked you through it, pace never slowing, praising you the whole time. “that’s it. good girl. fuck, you feel so good squeezing me like that.”

he chased his own release with a few more deep thrusts, then buried himself to the hilt and came with a low groan, filling you up in hot pulses. he stayed inside you for a long moment, breathing against your neck, then slowly pulled out. you started to collapse forward but he turned you onto your back gently, spreading your legs again. “shh, i’ve got you. relax for me, princess.”

he looked down at your pussy, at his cum starting to leak out, and something flickered in his eyes. “like being stuffed with my cum, baby? you like being full, huh?”

he lowered his hand and gathered the hot liquid dripping out of you on his fingers, sliding them back inside you, pumping slowly. you whined at the overstimulation. he leaned down again, his other hand resting on your inner thigh, keeping you open for him as he really went to work, eating you out properly now, tongue flicking and sucking your clit with the perfect pressure, his fingers fucking his release deep inside you. the overstimulation made you twitch and whimper but it felt so good you couldn’t stop him. he moaned against you like he was enjoying it just as much. “one more for me, baby. you’ve been so good taking everything i gave you. let go.”

you came again on his tongue, softer this time but still intense, thighs clamping around his head as he licked you through it until you were oversensitive and gently pushing at his shoulders. he pulled back, wiped his mouth and gathered you into his arms, carrying you to the bathroom like you weighed nothing.

he ran the bath warm, helped you step in, and climbed in behind you so your back was to his chest. the water felt perfect against your skin. he took a soft cloth, soaped it gently, and started washing you with careful hands, massaging your shoulders, down your arms, over your chest in slow soothing strokes. “there we go. you’re all clean now. i’m sorry i got so rough with you. but you needed it, didn’t you? to remember how much i care. how crazy it makes me when i can’t reach you and i don’t know if you’re okay.”

you leaned back into him, the last of the anger gone, replaced by that warm floaty feeling only he could give you. “i’m sorry too. i should’ve texted. i didn’t mean to scare you like that. i love you.”

he kissed the top of your head, then your temple, then the side of your neck soft and sweet again. “i love you more. so much more. next time just send me one little text, okay? that’s all i ever ask. i trust you. i just worry because you’re my everything.”

he washed your hair next, fingers working the shampoo into your scalp with gentle circles that made you melt further against him. he rinsed you both carefully, helped you out, dried you with a big fluffy towel, and carried you back to bed. he tucked you in, brought water and some medicine for the morning, then slid in beside you and pulled you straight to his chest, one arm around your waist, the other stroking your hair.

“my princess,” he murmured, voice back to its usual warm calm. “sleep now. i’ve got you. always.”

────── ✧ ──────

glossary:

jeonha (전하) — your majesty / your highness. a formal honorific used when addressing the king or crown prince.

gongjunim (공주님) — princess. an affectionate term namjoon uses for you.

gonryongpo (곤룡포) — the robe worn by the crown prince, embroidered with dragons symbolising royal power.

hanbok (한복) — traditional korean clothing worn by all social classes, with multiple layered garments.

jeogori (저고리) — the short jacket-like top of a hanbok.

chima (치마) — the long, full skirt of a hanbok.

nain (나인) — junior court lady or palace maid.

unni (언니) — older sister (used affectionately by younger court ladies toward you).

the morning sun filtered softly through the mulberry paper screens of princess kyung-min’s quarters, casting pale golden patterns across the woven mats. you stirred slowly beneath your thin quilt, body still carrying the faint ache from the night before. your thighs felt tender where his hands had gripped them, and a dull throb lingered between your legs. the memory of cool wood against your cheek and the hot press of him inside you rose unbidden, making heat creep up your neck even as you forced yourself upright.

a soft knock sounded at the inner door. one of the younger nain peeked in, bowing low. “the princess is awake and asks for you, unni.”

you smoothed your hair and straightened the rumpled hanbok you had slept in, grateful that the layers hid the faint marks his fingers had left on your hips. kyung-min was already sitting at her low table when you entered, dressed in a soft lavender jeogori over a cream chima. her hair was loosely pinned, and she looked far too alert for the early hour.

“you look tired,” she said without preamble, patting the cushion beside her. her voice held that familiar warmth, the one that had grown between you over years of shared secrets and quiet laughter in these very rooms. she poured tea with graceful hands. “did my brother keep the pavilion noisy again last night? i heard music drifting even here.”

you accepted the cup, keeping your expression neutral even as your pulse quickened. “he had guests, your highness. it went late.”

kyung-min hummed, eyes sparkling with the kind of knowing that only a younger sister could possess. she had never pressed you directly, but she noticed things. the way you sometimes returned from errands near the east palace with a particular softness in your step. the way namjoon’s gaze lingered a fraction too long when the three of you crossed paths in the gardens.

“the betrothal envoy arrives in two weeks,” she said after a moment, tone lighter but not without weight. “father wants everything prepared. the northern princess is said to be very proper. scholarly, they say. exactly the kind of bride our brother should have.”

you kept your eyes on the steam rising from your tea. two weeks. the words settled heavy in your chest. you had known of the arrangement for months, of course. a political match to strengthen ties with the northern clans. namjoon had never spoken of it to you, not once. but you had seen the scrolls delivered to his study, the formal letters bearing the seal of her family.

kyung-min reached over and squeezed your wrist gently. “he will hate every moment of it. you know how he is. brilliant enough to debate ministers into silence, yet he would rather lose himself in poetry or… other distractions, than sit through one more discussion of alliances.”

you managed a small smile. the princess’s friendship was one of the few steady things in your life here. she treated you more like a confidante than a servant when the doors were closed, and you guarded her trust fiercely in return.

the day unfolded in its usual rhythm. you helped kyung-min with her morning correspondence, sorted silks for an upcoming seasonal rite, and accompanied her on a short walk through the inner gardens. eunuchs bowed as you passed. other court ladies glanced and whispered behind their sleeves. you kept your gaze lowered, the picture of proper decorum, even as your mind drifted to the man who could summon you with a single word and have you on your knees before the sun set.

by late afternoon, word came from the east palace. a young eunuch approached you in the corridor outside the princess’s quarters, bowing deeply.

“the crown prince requests your presence in his study, my lady. he says it concerns a message for her highness.”

your stomach tightened. a message. of course. always a pretext. you excused yourself to kyung-min with a bow, her knowing look following you as you left.

namjoon’s study was quieter than the pavilion had been. the space smelled of old paper, ink, and the faint herbal scent of the tea he favored. scrolls and books were neatly stacked along low shelves, evidence of the brilliant mind that absorbed knowledge without effort. he sat at his desk in a deep indigo gonryongpo, the dragon embroidery catching the light from the oil lamps.

he looked up when you entered, the door sliding shut behind you with a soft click. the eunuch remained outside.

“jeonha,” you said bowing deeply, voice steady even as your heart beat faster.

he set down his brush and rose. the power in the room shifted immediately. he did not need to raise his voice or issue commands. the simple fact of who he was, future emperor, was enough. you could not refuse him. you never truly could.

“close the screen,” he said, tone low and even. not a request.

you did as told, hands moving automatically. when you turned back, he was already in front of you, tall frame blocking the light from the window. his fingers brushed your chin, tilting your face up.

“jeonha,” you whispered again.

namjoon’s mouth curved, not quite a smile. he kissed you then, slow and deep, tasting of the tea he had been drinking. the kiss was unhurried, a contrast to the frantic pace of the night before. his tongue traced yours, one hand tangling in your hair while the other worked at the ties of your jeogori with practiced ease.

“i thought of you all day,” he admitted against your mouth, voice rougher now. “in meetings. during lectures. every time some minister droned on about the alliance, i wondered if you were still sore from taking me last night.”

you swallowed. even though heat rushed through you at his words, a quiet unease lingered in your chest that you couldn’t brush aside. “they say the northern princess’s envoy arrives in two weeks. that she is graceful… accomplished in the classics.”

namjoon’s hand paused for the briefest moment on your waist, then continued loosening the ties. “yes,” he said simply, voice low. “she will make a fine queen.”

the words hung between you, but he did not linger on them. instead he pushed the outer layers of your hanbok open, cool air meeting warm skin.

“jeonha… should we not stop this? soon you will have a queen. it is not right to continue these encounters when you are promised.”

namjoon stilled again, pulling back just enough to look at you, eyes dark but calm.

“stop?” he echoed, the word almost amused. his thumb traced slow circles against your skin through the loosened fabric. “why should we stop when this is what we both want?”

“because she will be your wife,” you whispered, voice tight. “she will share your bed. bear your heirs. and i… i am only a court lady. this cannot continue forever.”

he let out a low breath, almost a laugh, and stepped closer until you were pressed against the edge of the desk. “she will be queen in name. she will sit beside me at ceremonies and give the kingdom sons. but she will never have this.” his hand slid lower, cupping between your thighs possessively, making you gasp. “she will never make me feel the way you do when you tremble under me. i do not care for her portraits or her accomplishments. i care for this. for you.”

his words were selfish, dismissive of the woman he would soon marry, but they sent heat flooding through you all the same. he kissed you again, deeper this time, as if to prove his point.

namjoon lifted you onto the edge of the desk without effort, skirts bunching around your hips. he stepped between your thighs, the hard line of him pressing against you through his robes. his mouth moved to your neck, sucking lightly at the spot that always made you shiver.

“tell me you want this,” he said, not quite an order but close enough. his fingers slipped beneath your undergarments again, fingers dragging softly through your wet folds. “tell me you came here knowing what i would do to you.”

“i want this,” you whispered, voice trembling with honesty. “jeonha… please.”

he groaned softly at the title and at the submission in your tone. “such a good court lady,” he murmured, voice low and filthy against your ear. “always so wet and ready for your prince. even when you know you should not be.”

his fingers circled your clit slowly at first, then faster, dipping inside you to spread your slickness. he watched your face the entire time, eyes dark with hunger. you tried desperately to swallow your moans, biting down hard on your lower lip so they wouldn’t slip out. the eunuch waited just outside, one wrong sound and everything could unravel. but namjoon didn’t seem to care in the slightest. when your hips started to rock against his hand, he added a second finger, curling them deep inside you.

“that’s it,” he praised, breath hot against your neck. “fuck yourself on my fingers, gongjunim. show me how badly you need to be filled.”

you obeyed, shame and pleasure twisting together as you moved against his hand.

he kissed you again, swallowing your whimpers. “have you been keeping yourself sweet for me?” he murmured against your lips before dropping to his knees right there between your spread thighs. he pushed your skirts higher and buried his face between your legs without hesitation. the sight of the crown prince on his knees before a lowly court lady, in such a filthy, obscene manner, made your stomach twist.

the wet heat of his tongue made your back arch. he licked broad stripes up your slit before focusing on your clit, sucking it into his mouth with obscene sounds that echoed softly in the quiet study. two fingers slipped inside you again, pumping steadily, curling against that spot that made stars burst behind your eyes.

“taste so good,” he groaned against you, the vibration sending sparks through your core. “my secret little whore. you swear to be worried about my future wife but you’re dripping on my tongue.”

the filthy words, spoken in that low, cultured voice, pushed you closer to the edge. you clutched at his hair, hips grinding against his mouth as he devoured you. he did not stop until your thighs shook and you came hard around his fingers, biting down on your own wrist to muffle the cry as your body fell back to lay flat against the table, back arching.

namjoon rose, wiping his mouth with the palm of his hand. his eyes were nearly black with want. he freed his cock from his robes, thick and flushed, and pressed the head against your entrance.

“look at you,” he murmured, voice rough. “spread open on my desk like a common concubine. so desperate to take your prince’s cock.”

he pushed inside in one long thrust, stretching you open. the fullness made you moan softly. he gave you time to adjust this time, groaning low as he felt your walls clenching around him. he fucked you with deep, powerful strokes, the desk creaking beneath you. one hand gripped your thigh, holding you open, while the other braced beside your head.

“so tight,” he groaned, hips snapping harder. “this cunt was made for me. no one else will ever have you like this.”

you could only whimper in response, nails digging into his shoulders through his robes. every thrust dragged against that perfect spot inside you. the risk of the eunuch outside, the knowledge that anyone could knock at any moment, only made it more intense.

namjoon leaned down, biting at your neck. “i want to feel you come around my cock while i fill you.”

his thumb found your clit, rubbing fast as he drove into you. the pleasure built rapidly, coiling tighter until it snapped. you came for the second time with a broken moan, walls fluttering hard around him. namjoon cursed, thrusts turning erratic as he buried himself deep and spilled inside you, hot pulses of his seed flooding your core.

he stayed pressed against you for a long moment, breathing hard, before finally pulling out. his spend trickled down your thigh as he tucked himself away and helped you straighten your clothing with surprisingly gentle hands. but when he stepped back, the familiar careless smile was already returning.

“tell my sister i will see her at the evening meal.” he said, voice light again.

you bowed, the motion automatic even as your legs still trembled. “yes, jeonha.”

he caught your wrist before you could turn away, thumb brushing over your pulse point. “come again tomorrow night. after the lanterns are lit. i will send for you.” it was not a question. it never was. he paused for a brief moment as his eyes examined your face carefully. “you haven’t even gone and i’m already missing your touch.” he murmured, his voice unexpectedly tender this time, almost sweet in a way you were not accustomed to. his words caught you by surprise, and all you could do was nod, heart twisting with equal parts anticipation and something sharper.

two weeks until the envoy arrived. two weeks until the reality of his betrothal moved closer. and still, you would go to him when he called.

as you slipped out of the study, the eunuch bowed without meeting your eyes. you walked back toward the princess’s quarters with measured steps, the ache between your legs a secret reminder of everything you could not have and everything you could not refuse.

kyung-min looked up when you entered, taking in your slightly flushed cheeks and the faint disarray of your hair with a small, knowing smile.

“did the message require much discussion?” she asked lightly.

you met her gaze, the lie coming easily because it had to. “no, your highness. the crown prince merely requests your presence at the evening meal. that is all.”

but as you helped her prepare for the dinner, your thoughts drifted back to his silk robes and low commands, to the way namjoon spoke of his future bride as if she were already a distant obligation. the game was growing more dangerous with every stolen moment. and you were sinking deeper into it, powerless to pull away.

you pressed your back against the cold tiles of the shower, eyes fluttering shut as warm water ran down your naked body. a soft sigh slipped out, easing some of the tension in your muscles, but it wasn’t enough to quiet the thoughts racing through your head.

that morning you woke up to another text from him.

taehyung: be ready at 7. no panties.

no follow up. you hadn’t dared to reply.

saturday meant no classes, which meant no taehyung. that single text had been the only thread connecting you to him all day, and it was enough to leave you distracted and restless, aching in ways you hated admitting. you could’ve gone out with your friends, spent time with your mom, taken one of your usual walks, but instead you stayed locked in your room, heart pounding, mind full of him, and that warm anticipation building between your thighs.

you hated him for it. hated how easily he could control your body with just a few words. but you still craved him so much.

you stepped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around yourself and padded back to your room. you grabbed your phone quicker than you meant to. nothing. no new messages. 6pm. your stomach twisted. was he really coming at 7? or was he just messing with your head again?

the next hour you spent getting ready with way more care than usual. you styled your hair until it fell perfectly over your shoulders, makeup subtle but with every detail checked twice in the mirror. picking the outfit took the longest—you didn’t want to look like you were trying too hard, but you still wanted to look good for him. you ended up with a short skirt and a cute simple top that looked innocent enough from a distance.

you spun in front of the mirror, checking every angle. your hands tugged at the hem of the skirt as cool air brushed against the bare skin between your thighs. your cheeks burned. you couldn’t believe you were actually going out like this—no panties, just like he said.

you knew exactly what he was doing. testing you. seeing how far you’d go for him, how much control he had over you. you hated it.

but here you were anyway, obeying without a second thought.

at exactly 7pm, your phone buzzed.

taehyung: i’m outside.

your heart slammed against your ribs. you remembered you never gave him your address, but he just… knew. just like yesterday in the school restroom. and now he was here.

you approached your bedroom window slowly, like he might somehow hear you, and peeked through the blinds. there he was, leaning against his black porsche 911, hands tucked into his dark pants, light blue button-up stretched across his broad shoulders with a few buttons undone and sleeves rolled up to show off the expensive silver watch.

his eyes flicked up and met yours for a split second before you yanked the blinds shut, pulse racing. fuck. you probably looked so obvious and pathetic.

you grabbed your bag and headed down, legs shaky as you walked toward him. a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“right on time,” he teased, pushing off the car.

“could say the same for you,” you shot back. a soft chuckle escaped him as he opened the passenger door for you.

“get in.”

you slid onto the seat, the cool, rough leather pressing directly against your bare pussy. you squirmed a little at the feeling, heat already starting to pool between your legs. the driver’s side door opened and he got in, the engine growling to life as he started the car.

“you look good.” his gaze dragged slowly over you, from your chest down to your legs, heavy and burning. you shifted in your seat, trying to escape the intensity of it.

“thanks,” you muttered, turning to stare out the window at nothing in particular.

there it was. that low, almost mocking chuckle again. ugh, you hated him.

you sat there in heavy silence for a few dragging seconds as he pulled away from your building, one hand resting casually on the wheel. even though you weren’t looking at him, you could feel his eyes flicking over to you every now and then.

your hands stayed clenched on top of your thighs. finally you found the courage to speak. “how did you get my number?” you kept your voice as steady as you could.

he glanced at you, one corner of his mouth lifting. “your friend gave it to me.”

your head snapped toward him, eyes wide. “what?”

“i traded jungkook’s number for yours. she was pretty eager to make the deal.” he sounded amused.

you stayed quiet for a second, processing. “i can’t believe her.” you rolled your eyes, fists tightening as you looked out the window before turning back to him. “what about my address? even in the… restroom yesterday, you said you knew where i lived. was that her too?”

“no.” he didn’t hesitate, eyes fixed on the road. “i told you, i have my ways.”

you let out a frustrated sigh. “that’s not an answer.”

“it’s the one you’re getting.” you almost gasped when his hand landed on your knee, warm and heavy, his thumb stroking slow circles over your skin.

your cheeks burned and your stomach tightened. he was so close to where you were already aching, but you didn’t dare move.

“did you do what i told you?” his voice was low and calm, the other hand resting lazily on the steering wheel.

you turned your head just enough to look at him properly. up close like this he looked even better—brown hair falling perfectly over his forehead, jaw moving slowly as he chewed gum, skin smooth and freshly shaved. you nodded, not trusting your voice.

a smirk pulled at his lips. “good girl,” he murmured. the words sent a fresh wave of heat through you, wetness already starting to build between your legs.

there was a beat of silence before his hand slowly slid higher up your thigh, fingers slipping between your legs. your head fell back against the seat, face burning. “stop…” it came out as a weak whisper, almost a whine.

his hand paused. “i can stop,” he said, fingers kneading the soft skin of your inner thighs. “but we both know that’s not what you really want.” he glanced at you for a second before looking back at the road, the sun setting low in front of you. “isn’t that right?”

you sighed, thighs pressing together instinctively, but all it did was trap his hand closer, your slick already dripping out of you.

“c’mon baby. let me check if you’re telling the truth.” he paused. “i know you want to.”

almost on their own, your legs parted just enough to give him room. his hand moved higher, teasingly slow, slipping under the hem of your skirt until his fingers ghosted over your aching core.

“fuck…” he breathed. “you’re so wet already.” you had to bite back a moan as his middle finger slid between your folds, spreading your wetness. “can’t wait to fuck this pretty pussy again.”

a small sound escaped you as his fingers started teasing your clit, rubbing slow circles. “i hate you,” you whined, eyes fluttering shut.

he chuckled softly. “you keep saying that.” you gasped when his finger pushed inside you, your walls clenching around it. “but you’re dripping all over my hand.”

he curled his finger and a soft moan slipped out of you. “shut up.”

he laughed softly, the sound warm and amused. he kept thrusting his finger inside you with slow, careful movements, like he knew exactly how your body worked. you let yourself melt into his touch, soft moans escaping every few seconds as your legs parted wider to give him more room. you heard him grunt under his breath at the sight.

eventually the car came to a stop. you opened your eyes. the sun had completely set, painting the sky a deep blue, with the distant city lights sparkling like the only source of brightness in this secluded spot. you gasped when he pulled his fingers out, instinctively clenching your thighs together at the sudden emptiness, cheeks burning as you turned to look at him.

“open up,” he murmured, brushing the wet tips of his fingers against your bottom lip.

you parted your lips just enough for him to slide them in. heat flooded your face at the filthy act, embarrassment mixing with arousal as you wrapped your lips around his digits and sucked eagerly, tasting yourself on them while his lust-filled eyes stayed locked on yours.

“fuck baby…” he groaned, his other hand already working on his belt buckle. the metallic click sent a shiver through you. “wanna wrap those pretty lips around my cock, huh?” he chuckled when he felt you suck harder as he unzipped his pants. “c’mere.”

he pulled his fingers from your mouth and tangled them in your hair instead, guiding you forward. you bent down willingly, ass slightly raised as he freed his cock. it sprang out thick and flushed, precum beading at the tip. your mouth watered instantly. you hadn’t tasted him yet, and your pussy clenched at the thought.

“stick your tongue out, baby.” he wrapped a hand around the base and you obeyed, opening wide. he tapped the head against your tongue a few times before sliding just the tip inside. you hummed around him, savoring the taste as you sucked gently.

when you tried to take more, his grip tightened in your hair, holding you back. you whined. “want more?” he smirked. “such a little slut. and you still say you hate me, huh?” he pressed your head down slowly until you took as much of him as you could, your mouth stretching around his thickness as you started bobbing.

you moaned around his cock when you felt his hand reach behind you, fingers sliding through your soaked folds and circling your clit.

“can’t focus with my fingers in your pussy, can you?” he laughed softly, feeling you struggle. “let me help you, baby.”

he started fucking your mouth in slow thrusts, hips lifting just enough while his fingers worked you from behind—teasing your clit, dipping inside, never giving you a steady rhythm.

“that’s it,” he murmured, voice rough. “you look so pretty with your mouth full of my cock.” his thumb brushed gently over your cheek, the soft touch a sharp contrast to everything else. he leaned back against the seat, watching you with hooded eyes.

every time he pressed harder on your clit or thrust his fingers deeper, you whined around him. whenever you tried to pull back for air, he gently pushed your head down again, keeping you there while his fingers continued their merciless teasing.

finally he tugged you off by your hair. you gasped for breath, a string of spit still connecting your swollen lips to the tip of his cock.

“still hate me, baby? or do you want more?” he teased, stroking himself lazily in front of you while his other hand kept playing with your soaked folds.

you looked up at him, catching that arrogant little smirk, and heat flared through you. you wanted more—needed it—but something stubborn in you refused to give him the satisfaction so easily.

“still hate you,” you managed, still catching your breath. his smirk slowly faded.

“you’re so fucking stubborn.” his teeth dragged over his bottom lip as both hands framed your face, one tilting your chin up. “why can’t you just admit you want me? that you want this.”

“i would never give you the satisfaction,” you shot back with your own smirk, knowing you’d hit a nerve.

his jaw clenched. without another word he let go, tucked himself back into his pants, and left you bent over the console as he got out and slammed the door. before you could straighten up, your door opened and a firm hand slapped your ass, making you whine.

“get the fuck out.” he pulled you from the car by your arm, pressing you against his chest and slamming the door shut behind you, eyes dark and intense.

“i’m gonna make you beg for my cock, understand?” his voice was low and rough. “gonna fuck that attitude right out of you.” he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, the gentle gesture clashing with his words. “by the time i’m done with you, you’ll be screaming that you love me.”

you didn’t get a chance to respond. his hand slid to your throat, fingers wrapping around it as he pulled you into a deep, hungry kiss. his tongue claimed your mouth instantly and you melted into it, humming against his lips, all your frustration temporarily forgotten.

he pulled back just enough for his lips to still brush yours. “now get on top of the hood of the car.” his hand stayed at the back of your neck, guiding you to the front where he pressed you against the cool metal. “sit there.”

you obeyed, sitting on the shiny black hood facing the glittering city lights below. he stepped back, eyes raking over you.

“spread your legs.”

“wha—”

“don’t make me repeat myself.”

you hesitated, face burning with shyness, but his stare didn’t waver.

“do it,” he said firmly. “let me see how wet you are for me.”

slowly you parted your thighs, the skirt riding up around your hips. the cool night air hit your soaked pussy and you shivered.

“touch yourself. slow.”

your face burned hotter but you reached down, timidly rubbing circles over your clit. a soft moan escaped you. the thrill of being so exposed made your stomach twist. he watched hungrily, pulling his cock out again and stroking himself lazily.

“hmm, look at you.” his voice was thick. “obeying every word i say, yet you still think you’re in control.” he laughed softly, interrupted by a low moan as he swiped his thumb over the leaking tip.

you rolled your eyes, trying to sound steady. “i am in control.”

he stepped closer. “don’t test me, baby.” his hand landed on your knee, fingers trailing slowly down your inner thigh. your own fingers kept moving on your clit as you shivered. “i know how bad you want this cock. keep this up and you won’t get any of it.”

you choked on a whine. he leaned in until his face was inches from yours, one hand braced on the hood beside your hip while the other stroked his cock in time with your movements.

“tell me how much you want it.” his breath ghosted over your skin. his eyes dropped to watch your fingers. “show me.”

you moaned, eyes fluttering as your hand moved faster, the pressure building in your belly.

“go ahead, baby. fuck yourself with those fingers.” he groaned. “fuck your little pussy like it’s my cock. i wanna see.” his lips pressed a wet kiss to your jaw, pulling another moan from you.

you dipped your fingers inside, clenching around them. it wasn’t enough—you needed more—but you pumped them steadily anyway. his mouth moved to your neck, sucking and biting. he pulled back to watch your fingers disappear between your folds, letting out a deep groan.

“fuck… is that how you want me to fuck you, baby?” his strokes sped up, precum dripping heavily.

“yes…” you whispered.

“what was that?” he teased. “speak up.”

“fuck me… please.” it came out as a needy whine.

“how much do you want it?” he pressed, rubbing the head of his cock against your inner thigh.

“i want it so bad.” you tried pushing your fingers deeper, but they weren’t enough.

“beg, baby.” his voice was dark and patient as he slid his cock over your clit. “beg for my cock. beg to be fucked like the slut you are.”

“please!” you cried, desperation taking over. “i need you to fuck me. i need it so bad.”

he smirked, clearly enjoying how broken you sounded. “c’mon baby, you can do better than that.”

he kept teasing, sliding through your folds and pressing against your clit but never giving you what you needed. tears of frustration pricked at your eyes.

“i’m begging you!” you grabbed his shirt, fingers undoing a few buttons. “please— please taehyung! i’m begging you, please fuck me.” your hand was getting tired, movements turning sloppy.

suddenly he pulled your hand away and replaced it with the head of his cock, pressing against your entrance.

“so you admit you want this, baby?” he pushed just the tip in, making your hips twitch desperately. “you admit you can’t get enough?”

“yes!” you whined. “yes i admit it. please just give it to me.”

he chuckled. “that’s a good girl.”

with one hard thrust he buried himself deep inside you. you cried out as he started fucking you roughly right away, the car rocking beneath you. he pushed your top down, freeing your breasts, and sucked one into his mouth, tongue flicking over your nipple while he pounded into you.

he pulled back to look at you, eyes dark. “feels so fucking good. tight little pussy taking me so well.” his hand wrapped around your throat, pressing just enough to make your eyes roll back. your walls clenched hard around him as your orgasm built fast.

then he slowed down, pulling out almost completely and denying you.

“taehyung— please— i need to cum—”

“not yet,” he growled, thrusting back in hard before pulling out again. “i wanna hear you say how much you love this cock.”

you whined, hips chasing him desperately as he edged you over and over until tears spilled down your cheeks and your thighs shook. “please— i can’t— i need it— please taehyung— i love your cock so much, i’m such a slut for it.”

he slammed back in deep and hard, groaning at your words. his hips moved frantically, hitting that perfect spot inside you. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him even deeper.

“love this, huh?” he moaned against your neck.

“love— this— love— you.” the words slipped out in your haze, too fucked out to filter them. taehyung heard every syllable.

his thumb found your clit again as he fucked you harder. your orgasm crashed over you suddenly, walls pulsing around him as you cried out.

he pulled out and dropped to his knees, spreading you open and burying his face between your thighs. his tongue licked broad and filthy over your pussy before sucking hard on your clit, drinking in every drop. you squirmed from the overstimulation, fingers tugging at his hair.

when he finally stood, his mouth was shiny. he wiped it with the back of his hand and smirked, then rubbed his cock against your sensitive entrance again.

“where do you want me to cum?” he asked, voice low and rough. “tell me.”

still breathless, you whispered, “inside.”

“louder.”

“inside me,” you repeated. “please— fill me up again.”

he groaned. “fuck. you’re such a fucking slut.”

he pushed back inside and fucked you hard, chasing his own release. when he came he buried himself deep, groaning as he filled you with hot pulses. you felt every throb.

he stayed inside you for a moment, breathing heavily, then slowly pulled out. he watched his cum drip from you before pushing two fingers back inside, gathering the messy mix.

“open,” he said.

you parted your lips and he fed you his fingers. you licked them clean, tasting both of you, while he watched with dark satisfaction.

“good girl,” he murmured.

he helped you down from the hood and gently fixed your skirt and top, his touch surprisingly soft.

the drive back started quiet. you were still floating, thighs sticky with the evidence of what you’d done.

“i heard you say it.” his voice was calm, eyes on the road.

“say what?” you turned to look at him.

“you love me.” your cheeks burned instantly. you had a vague memory of the words slipping out in the heat of the moment, but your mind tried to shove it away.

“i didn’t say that,” you replied, your voice shakier than you wanted.

he chuckled, amused, glancing away for a second before focusing back on the road. “stop lying. we both know what you said.” he paused. “and i told you that you would.”

you clenched your fists in your lap, rolling your eyes as you stared out the window. “you’re so irritating,” you muttered.

“and you love me.” he laughed, louder this time but still warm.

you turned and slapped his upper arm. “shut up! i don’t.”

one of his hands left the wheel to grab your wrist, holding it firmly. “behave. i’m driving.” he let go slowly and you frowned, deciding it was smarter to stay quiet.

you checked the time on the dashboard and your stomach dropped. it was already past midnight.

“my mom’s going to kill me,” you muttered. “she told me not to be late.”

taehyung glanced at you, clearly entertained. “you’re really worried about that?”

“yes,” you said, a little defensive. “she’s going to be upset.”

he shook his head lightly. “how old are you?”

“ugh, i live with my mother and i actually respect what she says—unlike you, apparently.” he stayed silent after that, jaw tightening just enough for you to notice, fingers gripping the wheel harder.

suddenly his phone rang. the screen lit up on the dashboard—a girl’s name you didn’t recognize. he glanced at it once and quickly declined the call, flipping the phone face down.

you stared at it, an uneasy twist forming in your chest.

“who was that?” you asked, trying to sound casual.

“no one important,” he said.

“didn’t look like no one.”

he sighed, but a small smile played on his lips. “jealous?”

“no,” you answered too fast.

he chuckled. “relax. i turned it off for a reason.”

you crossed your arms, annoyed but trying not to show how much it bothered you. “you could’ve just answered if it was nothing.”

“and ruin the night?” he glanced over at you. “you’re cute when you’re a little jealous, you know.”

you rolled your eyes but didn’t argue. the rest of the drive stayed quieter, his hand resting possessively on your thigh the whole time.

when he finally pulled up in front of your building it was well past midnight. you hesitated before getting out.

“i’m gonna be away for a few days. i’ll text you when i get back,” he said.

your stomach sank. “why?— i mean… what about school?”

he shrugged. “it’s fine. my mom already talked to the principal.” he looked a little uncomfortable when he noticed you waiting for more. “just some family stuff we need to handle. i’ll be back next weekend.”

you nodded silently. you hated admitting it, but the idea of not seeing him for a whole week already felt unbearable.

“what? can’t go a few days without my cock, baby?” he teased with a chuckle.

you rolled your eyes and slipped out of the car. “i can and i will.” the words slipped out before you could stop them. “who said you’re the only cock i have?”

his amusement vanished instantly, eyes darkening. you closed the door before he could respond and walked toward the building.

the house was quiet when you stepped inside. your mom was asleep on the couch, the tv still murmuring low. relief washed over you. you grabbed the throw blanket from the armchair, gently covering her, and leaned down to press a soft kiss to her forehead.

“sorry,” you whispered.

you went to your room, closed the door, and the weight of everything finally hit you. you stripped out of your clothes slowly, the fabric still carrying hints of his cologne and the smell of sex. you could still feel him on your skin.

pulling on your soft pajamas, you flopped onto your bed and stared at the ceiling. your phone buzzed.

taehyung: don’t ever say that shit again.

another message came right after.

the warm mediterranean sun kissed your skin as you lounged on the deck of kim namjoon’s massive yacht anchored off the coast of one of the greek islands. the crystal blue water sparkled around the vessel, and you had spent the morning diving off the side, swimming lazily, and sunbathing in a tiny thong bikini that left little to the imagination. namjoon had bought it for you last week, along with the yacht itself, which he happily named after you, because he loved spoiling his favorite little girl. at thirty two, he was a few years older than you, filthy rich from his empire in music and business, and always busy with meetings, like the one happening right now in his large private office inside of the yacht. it was completely absurd to you how he could be working when he was in a place like this— after all, work could wait, right? he was the boss. and you were oh so needy for him. the glass walls gave him a perfect view of the deck and sea, and you knew he could see you out there, waving to him from time to time, calling out for him to come join you but being dismissed with a small wave and quick smile, his eyes going back to the screen in front of him. you just rolled your eyes, frustrated.

you floated in the water for a while, and laid on the fluffy white cushions on the deck while your body tanned in the sun, but boredom soon set in. namjoon had promised you his full attention after work, but hours had passed and there was no sign of him ever leaving that damn office. with a mischievous grin, you got up and walked over to the entrance, a few water droplets still dripping from your curves as you slipped inside the luxurious interior. the air conditioning cooled your heated skin as you padded barefoot toward his office, goosebumps forming on your skin and your bikini clinging wetly to your body. you could hear his deep voice through the slightly ajar door, conducting some important call with partners overseas.

peeking in, you saw him at his massive wooden desk, looking every bit the powerful man he was, in a crisp white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled up to show his strong forearms. his broad shoulders filled the chair, and the office was bright with floor to ceiling windows. he glanced up briefly when you entered, his dark eyes widening for a split second before he schooled his expression back to professional and the meeting continued on the large screen in front of him.

you didn’t say a word at first. instead, you paced around the front of the office for a minute, tracing your fingers over expensive sculptures and old books, humming softly to yourself. you turned your heels to him, walking slowly towards his desk and you saw him peeking over the screen to look at you briefly. you smoothed your hand over the back of the brown leather chair in front of his desk that he kept for one on one meetings. you remembered teasing him when he bought it, laughing at how unrealistic it was to have one on one meetings on a yacht. you sat on the chair, leaning back slightly, your legs crossing over each other teasingly and once again you saw him discreetly glancing at you. your fingers trailed down your breasts all the way to your stomach slowly, and for a second he froze, eyes locked on your body before he was brought back to life by the voices in the call. you chuckled lowly, your hands making their way back to your breasts where you kneaded softly at them, cupping and playing with them, feeling your nipples harden under the touch.

“daddy” you mouthed silently, frowning with a pout.

namjoon cleared his throat, voice steady as he replied to someone on the call. “yes, the projections look solid. we can move forward next quarter.”

you slowly lifted your legs, placing your feet on top of the chair as you spread your legs widely, biting your bottom lip with that bratty sparkle in your eyes. you dipped your hand lower, tracing your stomach again until you reached your core, your fingers circling your clit over the damp material of your bikini bottoms. your head fell back slightly, eyes still locked on him and you whined softly, just loud enough for only him to hear.

he shifted in his seat, jaw tightening, but his voice remained calm on the call. one hand gripped the desk edge hard enough that his knuckles whitened. you spread your legs a little wider, reaching under the fabric and pulling it to the side, exposing your smooth, glistening cunt to his gaze. it was already wet, not just from the sea but from the thrill of teasing him while he tried to focus. you dipped into your slick folds with soft, wet sounds that you knew drove him crazy. you tilted your head slightly to look over at him, smirking. “come on, daddy,” you whispered carefully so only him could hear. “look how wet i am for you. dont you want to fuck this little pussy instead of talking business?”

namjoon’s eyes darkened with lust and warning, but he kept his composure, nodding at the screen. “i agree, lets wrap this up soon. i have an urgent matter to attend to.” his free hand reached out over the desk and past the screen, snapping his fingers in a warning way to tell you to stop but you just giggled and pushed two fingers inside yourself, moaning quietly.

the meeting dragged on for what felt like forever to you, and possibly for namjoon too, who struggled to stay professional while your pussy dripped onto the leather seat of the chair. you spread your folds with two fingers, giving him an obscene view of your tight hole.

“daddy please,” you breathed. “im so bored and empty without your big cock.”

finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he ended the call with clipped politeness. “thank you, gentlemen. we’ll continue next week.” the screen went black, and the second the connection dropped, namjoon stood up like a predator, his tall frame towering over you.

before he could reach you, you stood up quickly, laughing as you ran away from him to the other side of the office, your heart pounding excitingly in your chest, knowing exactly what awaited you.

“you fucking brat,” he growled low, his body turning the corner of the desk, his steps heavy as he walked slowly in your direction. “interrupting my meeting like that, playing with that greedy little cunt right in front of me. you just couldn’t wait, could you?”

you couldn’t help the giant grin on your face as he came closer to you, your back pressing into the warm window behind you as you took one more step back, giggling.

“what are you gonna do about it, daddy? punish me? i was just having fun while you left me bored and ignored me.”

you tried running away again as he took one big step forward and reached for you but he was quicker this time, his hand grabbing at your upper arm firmly, and you squealed as he pulled you flush to his chest, forcing you to tilt your head all the way back to look up at him, his eyes dark and hungry.

“oh im going to teach you a lesson, baby. naughty girls who tease daddy during important calls get fucked senseless until they learn who owns their fucking body.”

you gasped as he bent down and in one swift motion hoisted you up, throwing you over his broad shoulder like you weighed nothing.

“put me down!” you whined, not helping a chuckle to escape in between words, kicking your legs playfully even as heat pooled between your thighs at how easily he manhandled you. his strong arm locked around the backs of your thighs, holding you securely while his free hand gave your exposed ass a firm smack.

“shut up, brat.” he growled, voice low and rough as he started walking toward the desk, shifting away a few loose papers before placing you on your back on top of the cold hard wood. “you wanted daddy’s attention so bad, didn’t you? now you’re getting all of it. and i’m going to do whatever i want with this tiny body of yours.”

namjoon hooked his fingers on the sides of your bikini bottoms, pulling them down harshly, and you heard them ripping slightly, making you yelp. he dropped to his knees, his broad shoulders fitting between your legs and his large hands spreading your thighs wide, exposing you completely. he buried his face in your cunt without warning. his tongue licked broad stripes through your folds, sucking on your clit hard while two thick fingers plunged inside you. you were so small compared to him, his mouth covering your entire pussy as he ate you like a starving man.

“fuck, daddy,” you moaned, hands tangling in his dark hair. “your tongue feels so good.”

he pulled back just enough to growl and reach over to remove your hand from his hair, holding both of your wrists firmly in one hand. “this pussy is mine. you don’t get to play with it without permission, especially not when i’m working, and you certainly don’t get to grab my hair and control what i’m doing.” he pulled out his fingers to slap your pussy, your body flinching as you whined from both pain and pleasure. “such a spoiled little slut, dripping all over my desk.” he added a third finger, plunging into you again and stretching you open, curling them to hit that spot that made your toes curl, sweet moans spilling from your lips as you let your head fall back, your eyes fluttering closed. “look how beautiful you are, taking three of daddy’s fingers already. my cock is going to split you wide open.”

you bucked against his face, a smirk spreading on your face as you thought of your next words. “then do it already, daddy. or are you too old and tired to fuck me properly?”

that immediately earned you another smack on your pussy as he stood up, towering over you on the desk. his hand, covered in your juices, quickly made its way to the back of your head, fingers tangling tightly in your hair and forcing you to get up, your body stumbling slightly from the force of his movements.

his face came dangerously close to yours, his warm minty breath fanning over your flushed cheeks. “don’t worry baby, i’m going to fuck that smart mouth right off you.”

he pulled you to your knees by your hair while he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants with his other hand, freeing his massive cock right in front of you. it was thick, veiny, and long, the head angry and leaking.

“open your fucking mouth, brat.” he commanded, voice deep and rough. you obeyed, sticking your tongue out. namjoon gripped your jaw with one big hand, tilting your head back slightly. he leaned down, his dark eyes locked on yours, and spat directly onto your waiting tongue — a warm, thick glob landing perfectly in your mouth.

“swallow for daddy,” he growled, thumb brushing your lip and you complied once again. “now suck this cock like a good girl.”

you leaned forward eagerly, taking him between your lips. he was so big your jaw ached immediately, but you sucked greedily, gagging as he pushed deeper into your throat. “thats it,” he praised, his hand still firm in your hair, guiding you. “choke on daddy’s fat cock. you love being my little cocksucker, don’t you? teasing me until i have to fuck this tight throat.”

tears pricked your eyes from the stretch, but you loved it, the size hitting hard as he used your mouth. saliva dripped down your chin onto your tits. after a few minutes he pulled out, strings of spit connecting you.

“beg for it,” he demanded, slapping the thick head of his cock against your warm tongue. you shook your head no, chuckling as you saw his eyes widening slightly, before it turned into a devilish smirk on the corner of his mouth. “no?” he waited, the heavy tip still laying on top of your tongue, and you shook your head again. “alright.” he shoved his cock back into your mouth without warning, deep, holding the back of your head with two hands now, keeping it in place and causing you to choke around him, tears falling down your cheeks as you hummed, the vibrations making him twitch inside you. you were trying so hard to control your breathing, your hands reaching for his strong tights for balance, clutching at the fabric and he felt how desperate you were getting.

“are you ready now, or you gonna keep being a fucking brat?” you forced yourself to look up at him with watery eyes, shaking your head eagerly and he finally let go, slowly removing himself from your mouth, spit falling at the sides of your mouth and you coughed, catching your breath. “what was that baby?” he teased, his smirk growing bigger as he admired your fucked out state.

“i— i’m ready— daddy.” you choked on your words, still trying to pull yourself together.

“good,” he murmured, thumb brushing tenderly over your cheek. “then beg.” his voice switched to that stern, dark tone again.

“please daddy,” you whined, doe eyes looking up at him, the same ones you knew he couldn’t resist. “fuck me hard. fill my little pussy with your big cock. i need it so bad.” he groaned at your words, his body leaning forward to wrap his strong arms around you, lifting you up effortlessly from the floor and placing you back on the desk, your legs on either side of his hips and you felt your pussy dripping at the thought of having him finally inside you.

“that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he mocked as he quickly removed his pants and underwear, throwing them carelessly to the side.

he lined himself with your entrance and you whined before he thrusted in with one powerful stroke, bottoming out deep inside you. the stretch was intense, his girth splitting you open as your walls clenched around him.

“fuck… so tight,” he groaned, holding still for a moment to let you adjust. “your tiny pussy is gripping me like a vice. look at that bulge in your belly, baby. see how deep daddy is?”

you looked down and moaned at the visible outline of his cock in your lower abdomen. he started pounding into you then, the desk creaking under the force, his hips slamming against yours with wet, filthy sounds. one big hand wrapped around your throat tightly, forcing your upper body to lay all the way down on the desk as the other pinned your wrists above your head.

“this is what bad girls get,” he growled as he fucked you senseless. “you’re going to take every inch until you’re crying for me to stop.”

“yes daddy— please” you gasped, your body bouncing with each thrust. the yacht rocked gently on the waves outside, matching the rhythm of his hips. after a few more thrusts he pulled out suddenly and flipped you over, walking you to the other side of the desk and bending you across the rough wood so you were now facing the windows overlooking the sea. he slammed back in from behind, spanking your ass red with each thrust. “everyone out there could see if they looked close enough. see what a slut you are for daddy’s cock. this pussy is mine to use whenever i want, you understand?”

you moaned, barely able to keep your eyes open, the tip of his cock hitting that delicious spot inside you that made the coil in your stomach tighten.

“daddy— i need— please, i wanna cum.” you cried out, his thrusts becoming quicker, harder.

“good girl.” he leaned forward and pushed a strand of your hair away from your face to plant a kiss on your cheek, his cock still working inside you. “since you asked for permission, you can cum baby.”

you couldn’t wait another second, the pressure too much to hold in, and his words were enough to make you cum hard around him, moaning loudly. “daddy! i’m cumming!” your walls pulsed, squirting a little as he kept fucking you through it, your juices dripping down your legs.

“that’s my good girl,” he praised but didn’t slow down. “give me another one, baby. milk daddy’s cock, i know you can do it.”

he reached around to rub your clit roughly, and didn’t take you long enough to shatter again, crying out with overstimulation and gushing around him. finally he groaned deep, burying himself to the hilt as he filled you with hot ropes of cum. “take it all, baby. daddy’s breeding your little cunt.”

he stayed inside you for a while, catching his breath as you did the same, then pulled out slowly, watching his cum leak down your thighs.

“fuck— so fucking beautiful. ” he caught the dripping fluid with two of his fingers and slowly pushed it back inside, earning a soft whine from you. “don’t waste anything, baby.” he placed a gentle kiss on your back before helping you lift up from the desk and turning you around, brushing your hair away from your face, smiling down at you.

“you okay? you did really good, baby. i’m proud of you.” he kissed your forehead softly and you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck and propping yourself up on your tippy toes to plant a kiss on his lips.

“you’re gonna come swim with me now?” you tilted your head slightly, grin splattered all over your face and he chuckled.

the bass from whatever song was playing downstairs thumped through the walls like a second heartbeat. hoseok wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, the bandana tied around his head already damp. baggy jeans hung low on his hips, oversized graphic tee sticking to his skin from skating in the empty pool out back for the last hour. he laughed at something his friend said, the kind of easy laugh that made people gravitate toward him even in a crowded house he didn’t know.

“bro, you’re killing it tonight,” his friend shouted over the music, passing him a half-empty bottle of something cheap and fruity. “that last trick? chef’s kiss.”

hoseok took a swig, grimacing at the sweetness but grinning anyway. “yeah? felt kinda sloppy but whatever.”

he needed to piss. bad. the line for the downstairs bathroom was ridiculous, so he wandered up the stairs, dodging couples making out against the railing and some guy throwing up into a plant. the second floor was quieter but still chaotic. he tried the first door — locked. second door — someone yelled “occupied!” third door he just pushed open without thinking.

“shit— sorry!”

inside, you were straddling some dude on the edge of the sink, your shirt already halfway off, his hands grabbing at your waist. hoseok caught a flash of skin and messy hair before he slammed the door shut again, heart racing from the awkwardness. he muttered another apology through the wood and backed away fast.

he tried two more rooms but they were all occupied or locked. the house was bigger than it looked from outside. fuck it. he stumbled back downstairs, out the back door, and found a bush far enough from the pool lights. after relieving himself he shook his head, laughing at his own drunken state. “real nice, hobi.” he said to himself.

back at the empty pool, his friends were still skating, laughing and passing a blunt around. he dropped down to sit on the edge, legs dangling into the deep end where the water should be, but instead, just concrete. the night air felt good on his skin. he accepted the blunt when it came his way, taking a slow pull, letting the smoke curl out as he watched his friends try tricks under the string lights.

he didn’t notice you at first, but then you were just there, sitting down right next to him, legs swinging beside his, blunt of your own between your fingers, the glowing tip cutting through the dark. you smelled like weed and something sweet, like vanilla and smoke.

“hey,” you said, voice casual but with a little edge. “sorry about the bathroom earlier. hope we didn’t scar you for life.”

hoseok turned his head, really looking at you now. drunk brain short-circuited for a second. you were pretty. like, stupidly pretty. hair falling messy around your face, lips still a little swollen from the earlier makeout, eyes bright even in the low light.

he blinked. “uh, yeah, no worries,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. “didn’t mean to walk in on… your boyfriend and you.”

you snorted, taking a hit from your blunt before offering it to him. “not my boyfriend. never gonna be. he’s just a convenient weed plug. i don’t even like him that much.”

hoseok raised an eyebrow, accepting the blunt. “damn. that’s… honest.”

“honesty’s easier when you’re this high,” you shrugged. “plus he’s boring in bed anyway. you skate, right? i’ve seen you around the parks.”

he took a long pull, holding it before exhaling. “yeah. helps clear my head. you come to the parks?”

“sometimes. mostly watch. you’re good. the way you move — it’s like dancing but on wheels. kinda hot, actually.”

he laughed softly, passing the blunt back. “flattery this early? you trying to make up for the bathroom trauma?”

“maybe.” you smiled sideways at him. “what’s your name, skater boy?”

“hoseok. friends call me hobi. you?”

“y/n.” you looked out at his friends doing ollies in the pool. one of them noticed you sitting close and whistled.

“yo hobi! are you finally pulling chicks? careful with him, he’s a weirdo.” he laughed.

hoseok waved him off with a laugh. “fuck off, man. go break your ankle somewhere else.”

his friend cackled and skated away, leaving you alone again. you chuckled. “your friends are funny.”

“they’re idiots, but they’re my idiots.” he leaned back on his hands, looking at you properly.

“you dance too, right? i have a friend that goes to the same dance classes as you. he says you’re the best there.”

he sighed deeply, his eyes closing for a second, his body relaxing into the concrete below him. “it’s the only time everything else disappears,” he said, voice softer. “just me, the beat, and whatever my body wants to do. no pressure.”

“sounds nice,” you replied, watching him.

you stayed like that for a while, knees brushing, eyes lingering longer than necessary.

“you’re pretty cool, you know that?” he said after a minute, voice a little rougher. “most people at these parties are just… so boring.”

“you’re not so bad yourself, hobi.” you bumped his shoulder. “wanna see something?”

he raised an eyebrow. “depends what it is.”

“it’s quieter. got better weed too.”

he didn’t hesitate. “lead the way.”

you slipped back inside, up the stairs again. you took his hand casually, fingers warm. the hallway was still chaotic but you navigated it like you owned the place.

you pushed open a door at the end of the hall and pulled him in, closing it behind you. the room was dim, lit by a red lamp. vinyl records scattered across the floor, posters of bands on the walls, bed unmade in the corner. music from the party filtered through the walls, muffled but present.

hoseok looked around with genuine interest. he picked up a record. “no way, they have this pressing? i’ve been looking everywhere.”

you leaned against the door for a second, watching him explore.

“this is actually my room,” you admitted, voice soft but playful. “it’s my parents’ house. my older brother throws these huge parties whenever they’re on vacation. i just let him have the downstairs chaos.”

his eyes lit up. “wait, seriously? your house is sick.”

you laughed and closed the distance. your hand rested on his chest. his fingers found your waist. the first kiss was soft, lingering, testing. then it deepened, tongues sliding, heat building slow. you stumbled back together until your knees hit the bed and you fell onto it, laughing breathlessly between kisses.

“you not tired of fucking for one night?” he teased against your lips, your fingers tugging at his bandana until it came loose, hair messy underneath. “thought you already had plans with weed guy.”

you laughed, the sound breaking into a moan as he kissed down your jaw, hands sliding under your top. “didn’t even finish with him. so you owe me a good fuck… and some weed.”

“deal.” clothes came off gradually, his shirt first, then yours. his skin was warm and electric. your hands explored his chest, then his abs. you never expected them to be this defined but made sense from all the skating and dancing. he groaned softly when you scratched lightly down his back.

“shouldn’t we lock the door?” he asked between kisses.

“more fun this way,” you whispered, biting his lower lip. “you scared?”

“nah. just don’t want your brother walking in while i’m in the middle of fucking his little sister.”

you laughed, the sound vibrating against his mouth. your hands were everywhere, learning each other, exploring every curve. you felt him already hard, pressing against your thigh through his jeans. you ground against him teasingly, which ripped a groan from him.

he pulled your shorts down, along with your panties, leaving you completely exposed in front of him. you pushed him onto his back and crawled down, eyes playful and hands working at the belt of his baggy pants. you reached under the hem, wrapping a hand around him and pulling him out. he was big, not too girthy but long, and it twitched in your hand. your mouth followed, wet and messy, no hesitation. you took him deep, tongue swirling, hand stroking what you couldn’t fit. spit dripped down, making everything slick and obscene. hoseok’s head fell back, fingers threading through your hair.

“fuck… that’s— shit, just like that.”

you hummed around him, the vibration making his hips twitch. you were sloppy, sucking harder, looking up at him with watery eyes. he was losing it already, but he pulled you off by your hair, lifting his upper body back up to look at you.

“turn around. wanna taste you too.”

you obliged with a grin, positioning yourself over his face with your legs on either side of his head, still holding his base firmly in your hand. your pussy hovered above his mouth, glistening and eager for him. he didn’t wait — grabbed your hips and pulled you down, licking into you with a groan. you tasted good, so sweet on his tongue. he ate you out eagerly, tongue flicking your clit then pushing inside your hole, nose buried against you. you moaned as you took him back into your mouth, sucking messily while grinding against his face.

“mmph— hobi, fuck,” you whined around his cock, the words muffled. the wet sounds filled the room, mixing with the distant party music. you rocked together, messy and desperate. his fingers kneaded at your ass lightly, opening you up further to fuck you with his warm tongue, making you shiver, your own mouth trying to suck him harder even tho he was making it so hard to focus.

you pulled off of him with a pop, breathing hard. “need you inside me.” you said while turning around, your legs straddling him, hands landing on top of his chest while you moved your hips over him, sliding your folds on his hard cock, mixing your spit with your juices. his eyes were locked on yours, he couldn’t look away from you, so pretty over him, almost angelic. all his thoughts went out the window once you lined him up and sank down slowly. you both moaned at the feeling, hoseok throwing his head back. you were so tight, so warm, so perfect. you started riding him, hands balancing you on his chest, hips rolling in a rhythm that had him seeing stars.

“god, you feel so good,” he breathed, hands gripping your waist, guiding your movements. “so fucking pretty like this.”

you leaned down to kiss him, still moving. you hated to admit that his words were making you blush, and you couldn’t let him see you fold like this. you tried keeping up but the feeling was so overwhelming, your legs started giving out, the way his cock grinded inside you making your muscles shake.

he laughed breathlessly. “want help, baby?”

his arms wrapped around you tight before you could muster a response. you gasped at the first hard thrust of his hips, his cock hitting so deep inside you it almost knocked the air out of you. he kept going, arms firmly keeping you in place while he thrusted hard and deep, making your eyes roll back and your mouth fall open. he kissed the corner of your mouth, then your neck, groaning against your skin as his movements picked up pace. the tension was building in your stomach, pleasure coiling tight as his tip hit that particular spot inside you.

he flipped you suddenly, pressing you into the mattress. you gasped, legs instinctively wrapping around him as he went back to thrusting deep into you, this new angle allowing him to reach further inside if that was even possible. one hand slid up to your throat, not squeezing hard, just resting there with light pressure. your eyes fluttered, moans falling helplessly through your lips.

“you like that?” he asked, voice husky and full of lust but caring at the same time.

“fuck— yeah… harder.”

he chuckled at your eagerness, hips snapping hard, hand firm on your neck. the bed creaked under you and you stopped caring how loud you were now, the music from outside muffling the sounds anyway, your nails digging into his back, making him grunt.

“want the whole house to hear how good i’m fucking you, huh?” he teased mid-thrust, that signature grin flashing on his lips even while pounding into you. “you’re always this loud?”

you laughed, the sound breaking into a moan. “only when it’s worth it.” you pulled him down by the back of his neck, planting a wet kiss to his lips, muffling a groan from him. “why,” you murmured against his lips. “,don’t like it?”

“oh baby, i could hear these pretty moans all day long.” he moaned against your mouth.

he shifted slightly, changing the angle just enough to hit that spot inside you once again until your legs were shaking around him. he reached down to flick your clit with his thumb, the heat building up rapidly between your legs.

“so close— hobi, i’m gonna—”

your back arched, the orgasm washing over you hard, ripping another loud moan from you. he pulled out at the last second, stroking himself fast, cumming with a low groan, stripes of white landing across your stomach.

he collapsed next to you, breathing hard, sweaty and satisfied. he grabbed a tissue from your nightstand, cleaning you up gently, making you giggle.

“you’re the first guy that does that.”

“you need to stop fucking losers.” he kissed you softly.

his phone buzzed on the floor. he reached for it, squinting at the screen. “shit. the guys are looking for me.”

“go,” you said, stretching lazily. “but i’ll find you again. gotta collect that weed you owe me.”

he grinned, pulling his clothes back on. “won’t let you down. promise.”

────── ✧ ──────

glossary:

jeonha (전하) — your majesty / your highness. a formal honorific used when addressing the king or crown prince.

gongjunim (공주님) — princess. an affectionate term namjoon uses for you, elevating you playfully.

gisaeng (기생) — professional female entertainers trained in music, dance, poetry, and conversation. often invited to private banquets.

gonryongpo (곤룡포) — the blue dragon robe worn by the crown prince, embroidered with dragons symbolizing royal power.

hanbok (한복) — traditional korean clothing worn by all social classes, with multiple layered garments.

jeogori (저고리) — the short jacket-like top of a hanbok, usually worn over the skirt.

yangban (양반) — the scholarly noble class; high-ranking officials and aristocrats.

geomungo (거문고) — a traditional korean zither-like string instrument.

east palace (동궁) — the residence area of the crown prince within the larger palace complex.

────── ✧ ──────

the lanterns swayed gently in the warm night breeze, casting flickering golden light across the secluded pavilion tucked deep within the east palace grounds. music drifted through the air—soft strings of the geomungo mixed with the lilting notes of a flute—accompanied by the laughter of a small, carefully chosen group. this was not one of the stiff royal banquets overseen by ministers and watchful eyes. this was namjoon’s world, the one he carved out for himself when the weight of expectation grew too heavy.

kim namjoon, crown prince of joseon, lounged at the center of it all like he belonged nowhere else. his blue gonryongpo was loosened at the collar, the embroidered dragons peeking out as if even they were taking a break from propriety. a cup of rice wine dangled loosely from his long fingers, half-empty again. his dark eyes sparkled with that easy mischief that made servants whisper and women lean closer.

“another round,” he called, voice warm and low, carrying over the music. hoseok, one of his close companions—a young yangban son who had grown up trailing after the prince—raised his cup with a cheer. beside namjoon, a gisaeng in flowing silk leaned in, her painted lips curving into a smile as his free hand settled boldly on her waist. his thumb traced lazy circles against the fabric, slipping just beneath the edge where skin met cloth. she giggled, pressing a fresh cup to his lips, and he drank deeply, eyes half-lidded in pleasure.

“you’re too generous tonight, jeonha,” she murmured, using the honorific playfully. namjoon chuckled, the sound rich and effortless, pulling her closer until she was nearly in his lap. his other hand came up to brush a strand of hair from her face, fingers lingering at her jaw.

“generous? i’m simply enjoying what the night offers,” he replied, voice dropping. “and you, my dear, offer quite a lot.” his hand slid lower, possessive and unhurried, drawing another soft laugh from her as the music swelled. around them, other women—palace servants who had been invited for the evening and a few more gisaeng—mingled with his friends. cups clinked. bodies drew near. the air grew thick with the scent of wine, incense, and warm skin.

from the shadowed edge of the pavilion, you watched.

you had seen this scene before. too many times. as one of the personal court ladies assigned to the crown prince’s younger sister, princess kyung-min, you moved like a ghost through these walls—silent, efficient, invisible to most. but never to him. not entirely. your closeness to his sister had given you access to the east palace for years, a friendship that had quietly bloomed between you and the princess since childhood, even as strict palace rules tried to keep such bonds in check.

namjoon’s gaze flicked toward you for the briefest moment as he took another drink. something unreadable crossed his face, a flicker beneath the haze of wine and laughter, before the gisaeng whispered something in his ear and reclaimed his full attention. his hand squeezed her hip, and she arched into him willingly.

he was always like this in these stolen hours: carefree, magnetic, utterly alive. the brilliant mind that memorized entire confucian texts after a single reading, the prince who could debate policy with gray-haired ministers and leave them stunned, chose instead to lose himself here. drinking, touching, laughing as if the throne were a distant dream rather than his inescapable future. he succeeded in his duties without visible effort—tutors marveled, his father, the emperor, could find no true fault in his performance—yet he poured his real passion into nights like this.

you knew the other side of him too well. the quiet mornings when he would summon you under the pretense of needing something from his sister or a message, pulling you behind screens or into forgotten alcoves. the way his clever fingers and softer words could unravel you completely. the childhood glances that had bloomed into something secret and dangerous once you both reached that trembling age of discovery. he had always been the one to lure, to initiate, using his status like a silken rope. and you had let him, again and again, even as your heart tangled itself deeper.

the music shifted to something slower, more intimate. namjoon’s laughter rang out as he leaned in to kiss the curve of the gisaeng’s neck, his hand now boldly exploring beneath layers of silk. one of his friends called out a teasing remark, and the group erupted in cheers and more poured wine. the night was young, the pavilion warm, and the crown prince was in his element—brilliant, reckless, and blissfully unburdened.

but you felt the familiar twist in your chest. jealousy, sharp and unwelcome, mixed with the ache of wanting what you could never truly have. he would find you later, you knew. he always did. a soft touch, a few sweet words murmured against your skin, and you would end up in his bed again, lost in the heat of him while pretending it didn’t break you a little more each time.

for now, you simply refilled a cup when summoned, keeping your eyes lowered like a proper servant, while the future emperor of joseon partied on as if tomorrow’s duties did not exist.

the banquet stretched late into the night, the music growing softer and the laughter more drunken as lanterns burned lower. you moved through the edges of it all with practiced grace, refilling cups, clearing empty dishes, and keeping your expression carefully neutral. princess kyung-min had retired hours earlier with a knowing smile and a quiet request for you to handle any late duties near her brother’s quarters. she suspected something, perhaps, but never pressed. your friendship with her was one of the few gentle truths in this palace of secrets.

when the last of his companions finally stumbled away and the gisaengs were escorted out with flushed cheeks and disheveled garments, silence settled over the space like a heavy curtain. you lingered to extinguish a few lanterns, heart already racing, because you knew what came next.

footsteps. deliberate. unhurried.

“you stayed,” namjoon’s voice came low behind you, warm like the rice wine still on his breath. his presence filled the space before he even touched you—tall, broad-shouldered, the scent of alcohol and incense clinging to his loosened robes. you turned slowly, eyes lowered out of habit, but his fingers caught your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze.

“jeonha,” you whispered, the title feeling both formal and far too intimate on your tongue. his eyes were darker now, heavy-lidded from drink but still sharp, that brilliant mind never fully dulled. a slow smile curved his lips.

“always so proper when others might hear,” he murmured, thumb brushing your lower lip. “but there is no need to restrain yourself with me.” he stepped closer, backing you gently against one of the carved wooden pillars. the night air cooled your skin where your own hanbok shifted, but his body radiated heat. “you watched me tonight. i felt your eyes the whole time.”

heat rose in your cheeks. jealousy still twisted low in your belly—the memory of his hands on that gisaeng, his laugh against her neck—but his touch was already softening the edges of it. he always knew how. “you seemed… well entertained, your highness.”

namjoon chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest as he leaned in, lips ghosting along your jaw. “jealous?” he asked, almost teasing, but there was something gentler beneath it. his free hand settled at your waist, fingers splaying possessively. “you know none of them matter the way you do. they’re just… distractions. fleeting pleasures.” his mouth found the sensitive spot beneath your ear, sucking lightly, and you shivered despite yourself. “you’ve been in my thoughts since we were children sneaking glances in these same halls. that hasn’t changed.”

you wanted to believe him. you always did in these moments. his words were sweet, his hands clever, and your body remembered every secret encounter—the way he had first pulled you close years ago, clumsy with youthful desire, then more confident as time passed.

his fingers worked at the ties of your jeogori, loosening the fabric with practiced ease. cool air met warm skin as he pushed the layers aside, mouth trailing lower to kiss along your collarbone. “let me remind you,” he whispered against your skin, voice husky. “let me show you how much i want this. how much i want you. here. now.”

the cool night breeze brushed against your exposed skin as his mouth trailed lower, but the heat of him pressed close kept you burning. namjoon’s hands were already working at the ties of your skirt, loosening layers of silk with a kind of impatient grace that spoke of how little he cared for the risk. the pavilion was open on three sides, lanterns casting long shadows across the wooden floor. anyone could walk past. a servant. a guard. his sister’s attendants. the thought sent a sharp thrill through your belly even as your hands found his shoulders, half pushing, half pulling.

“jeonha—someone might see—” you whispered, voice thin.

he only hummed against your collarbone, the sound low and distracted. “then they will see their prince taking what he wants.” his fingers slipped beneath the last layer of cloth, finding you already slick and aching. a quiet, satisfied sound left him. “you’re wet for me already. you always are.”

before you could answer, he sank to his knees in front of you, right there against the carved pillar. the sight of him—crown prince in half-open sapphire robes, kneeling in the open pavilion like a man possessed—made your breath catch. he pushed your skirts higher, bunching the fabric around your waist with careless hands, and leaned in. the first slow drag of his tongue made your knees buckle. you bit down hard on your lip to keep from crying out.

namjoon didn’t bother with teasing tonight. he licked into you like he was starving, broad strokes and then focused circles that had your hips jerking against his mouth. one of his hands gripped your thigh, holding you open, and you clutched at the pillar behind you, nails scraping wood, every sense screaming that you were exposed—the faint breeze cooling the wetness he was spreading with his tongue, the distant possibility of footsteps on the path.

he groaned softly against you, the vibration traveling straight through your core. “taste so good, gongjunim” he muttered, voice rough, almost to himself. he wasn’t thinking of the risk. he never did in these moments. his own pleasure, his own hunger, came first. he licked deeper, sucking at your clit with wet, obscene sounds that felt far too loud in the quiet pavilion, and kept going until your thighs started to shake.

“namjoon—please—” the name slipped out, desperate. he answered by sucking harder as pleasure crashed over you fast and sharp, your body clenching around him as you came with a broken, muffled sound, head pressed to the cool wood of the pillar.

he didn’t give you time to recover.

namjoon rose in one fluid motion, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand like he’d just finished a meal. his eyes were dark, pupils blown wide. he spun you around before you could speak, pressing your front to the pillar. the wood was rough against your cheek. he kicked your feet apart with his own, bunching your skirts higher at your back. you heard the rustle of his own robes, the soft metallic clink of his belt being shoved aside, and then the hot, blunt head of his cock nudged between your thighs.

“hold on,” he said, voice low and a little breathless. not a suggestion—an order born of his own need. he pushed inside in one long, relentless thrust that forced a choked gasp from your throat. the stretch was deep, almost too much after his mouth, but your body welcomed him anyway. he didn’t start slow. he fucked into you with hard, steady strokes that rocked you against the pillar, one hand braced beside your head, the other gripping your hip hard enough to bruise.

every thrust made the risk sharper. the pavilion creaked faintly. your soft, wet sounds and the slap of skin were loud in the night air. anyone walking the outer path could hear. could see the silhouette of the crown prince taking his sister’s court lady like a common lover against a pillar. namjoon didn’t slow down. if anything, the possibility seemed to spur him on. his breathing grew heavier, forehead dropping to your shoulder as he drove deeper, chasing his own release without a single thought for discretion.

“god—always so tight for me,” he groaned against your neck, hips snapping harder. one hand slid around to rub quick circles over your swollen clit, rough and insistent. “cum again. want to feel you.”

you did—shaking, biting your own forearm to muffle the cry as another orgasm tore through you. your walls fluttered around him and he cursed low, thrusts growing erratic. he buried himself to the hilt and came with a stifled groan, spilling deep inside you in hot pulses. for a long moment he stayed pressed against your back, breathing hard, cock still twitching inside you.

the secluded hall felt suddenly very quiet. your legs trembled, his seed already beginning to drip down your thigh. namjoon finally pulled out with a soft, wet sound, tucking himself away with lazy fingers. he didn’t move to clean you or fix your clothes right away. instead he turned you gently, pressing a slow, almost sweet kiss to your mouth that tasted like you and him and rice wine.

“you’re shaking,” he murmured, thumb brushing your cheek. there was a flicker of something softer in his eyes, but it was already fading back into that easy, careless smile. “go clean up before someone comes looking. i’ll see you again soon.”

he stepped back, already adjusting his robes like nothing had happened, like he hadn’t just fucked you senseless in the open pavilion where anyone could have walked by. the crown prince who thought first of his own pleasure, taking what he wanted without ever weighing the danger.

you stayed against the pillar a moment longer, heart still racing, the ache between your legs a reminder of how little he cared for the risk—so long as he got what he needed.