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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.

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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.

you push open the door to the music studio, the familiar scent of coffee and warm electronics wrapping around you. the room is dimly lit, just the way they like it when they’re deep in work—soft glow from the monitors, a couple of half-empty mugs on the desk. namjoon and yoongi are both hunched over the mixing board, focused.

“hey baby,” namjoon says, voice deep and warm as he turns in his chair. his smile is immediate, dimples showing. you step closer and lean down to kiss him slow and sweet, your lips lingering just a little.

“hi joon,” you murmur against his mouth, pulling back with a small smile. you glance over at yoongi. “hey yoongi. sorry if i’m interrupting.”

yoongi glances up briefly, expression neutral. “it’s fine,” he mutters, voice low and a little rough, clearing his throat once before looking back at the screen.

you stand beside namjoon’s chair for a moment, one hand resting lightly on his shoulder as you peer at the waveforms. “what are you two working on today? can i hear the latest version?”

namjoon’s arm slides around your waist, tugging you gently down onto his lap. “yeah, come here.” you settle against his chest, your short dress riding up your thighs as you get comfortable. his arm wraps securely around you. “we’ve been tweaking the chorus mostly.”

he clicks play, letting the moody beat fill the room. you listen, nodding along. “it sounds really good. the atmosphere feels heavier now.” you turn your head slightly toward yoongi. “you added that new layer, right?”

yoongi shrugs, eyes fixed on the screen. “yeah. tried something different.” his words are short, clipped. he shifts in his seat, swallowing hard.

namjoon chuckles softly, his hand resting casually on your bare thigh, thumb stroking slow circles. “yoongi’s being modest again. it was his idea. makes the whole thing hit different.”

“the tour’s been so draining lately,” you say, keeping the conversation light. “that seoul show where the lights flickered?

namjoon laughs, low and easy. “yeah, chaotic as hell. baby, you should’ve seen yoongi’s face when the monitors died.” his hand slid further up your thigh, warm palm against softer skin.

you tense, reaching down to gently push his hand lower. “joon,” you whisper close to his ear, cheeks warming. “stop.”

he hums, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder like nothing’s wrong. his hand returns moments later, higher this time, tracing the inside of your thigh.

yoongi stays quiet, staring at the screen, but his jaw tightens. “the bridge timing is still off,” he says flatly, voice strained.

“yeah, i hear it,” namjoon agrees, playing a short section again. his fingers brush teasingly close to the edge of your panties. “what do you think, baby? keep it stripped or add more?”

you squirm in his lap, embarrassed. “joon, seriously,” you whisper more urgently, trying to close your legs and nudge his hand away. “he’s right here. let’s go somewhere else if you’re in the mood, okay? please.”

namjoon stays perfectly calm, voice steady but loud enough for the room. “why leave? yoongi’s been enjoying this view for a long time now. haven’t you, hyung?”

the words hit like a shock. you freeze, eyes wide. “namjoon—what the hell?” you slap his chest hard with your palm, the sound sharp in the quiet studio, your face burning with disbelief and embarrassment. “what are you even talking about?”

yoongi’s head snaps up, face flushing deep red. “what the fuck?” his voice is sharp with anger and shock. “don’t say shit like that, that’s not funny at all.”

namjoon doesn’t flinch, still relaxed behind you, his hand resting high on your thigh. “i’m not joking. i’ve known for months. all those nights on tour—you disappearing after hearing us through the walls, the way you stare when she’s here. you’re not subtle.”

you’re mortified, slapping his arm again in protest. “joon, stop this right now! this is so fucking embarrassing—i have no idea what you’re talking about.” your voice shakes, shame flooding through you, but a traitorous warmth starts building low in your belly.

yoongi looks pissed, fists clenched tight on the desk. “this is complete bullshit. you’re making shit up just to fuck with me. she’s your girlfriend, i never crossed any line.” his tone is rough, defensive, breathing heavier now. he won’t meet your eyes, but the strain in his sweats is obvious as he shifts uncomfortably.

namjoon’s voice stays calm and steady. “deny it all you want, but you’re hard right now just from looking. tell her the truth. how long have you been thinking about her like this?”

yoongi stays silent for a long, tense moment, face burning crimson. “you’re an asshole for this.” yoongi suddenly pushes his chair back, standing abruptly. “fuck this, i can’t deal with this shit.”

namjoon’s arm shoots out fast, grabbing yoongi’s wrist in a firm, unyielding grip, yanking him back. his voice drops lower, dominant and angry. “sit the fuck down, yoongi. now.”

yoongi tenses hard, jaw clenched, clearly fighting the urge to pull away, but after a beat of resistance he drops back into the seat with a shaky, defeated breath. his face is still burning with humiliation. “tell her.”

he finally snaps, voice low and full of shame. “since last year, alright? i tried to ignore it. hearing you two… seeing her with you. it wasn’t on purpose. this is fucked up.”

the confession hangs heavy. you whimper softly, burying your face against namjoon’s neck for a moment, completely overwhelmed. “this is insane…”

“see?” namjoon murmurs against your ear, calm and filthy now, his fingers brushing deliberately over the damp spot on your panties. “he’s been dying for you this whole time. and you’re soaking already, baby. you like knowing he’s been touching himself thinking about you?

yoongi lets out a shaky breath, still embarrassed but unable to look away completely. “don’t— say it like that… shit.” his hand presses against his obvious bulge, conflicted but visibly turned on.

namjoon pulls your dress higher slowly, bunching the thin fabric around your waist and fully exposing your soaked panties and the smooth skin of your thighs to yoongi’s hungry stare. “good,” he murmurs against your ear, voice low and commanding. “now watch how i fuck my woman, hyung. pay attention. maybe you’ll finally learn how to handle her the way she needs.”

you whimper in pure embarrassment, your face burning hot as you instinctively try to close your legs, but namjoon’s strong thighs keep you spread open over his lap. “joon…please,” you whisper shakily, voice cracking. “this is so embarrassing—“

but your body betrays you completely. your pussy clenches visibly against the damp fabric, a fresh rush of wetness soaking through as yoongi’s eyes darken, locked between your legs. you can’t deny how filthy and thrilling it feels to be displayed like this.

namjoon chuckles darkly, one big hand sliding up to cup your mound possessively, rubbing slow circles over your panties with the heel of his palm. “look at him, baby. don’t hide. tell me you don’t love how desperate he looks right now—watching from afar like the pathetic little pervert he’s been all this time.”

you hesitate, biting your lip hard, but namjoon’s fingers press firmer and you moan softly, eyes fluttering open to meet yoongi’s. he’s breathing raggedly, one hand gripping the arm of his chair while the other palms his hard cock through his sweats, completely transfixed. the sight sends another wave of heat through you.

“fuck…” you breathe, embarrassed but undeniably turned on. “yoongi…”

the sound of his name falling from your lips makes yoongi’s cock twitch hard in his hand, a visible throb that has him groaning low and squeezing the base to stop himself from losing it too soon.

yoongi swallows thickly, voice hoarse and shy. “shit, you’re even prettier up close like this. i shouldn’t—fuck, i’m sorry.”

namjoon smirks, hooking his fingers into the crotch of your panties and tugging them aside, fully exposing your glistening, swollen pussy to the cool studio air and yoongi’s wide eyes. “don’t apologize. look at this pretty cunt, hyung. she’s dripping just because you’re staring. been waiting for you to see how wet she gets.”

he drags two thick fingers through your folds slowly, spreading your slickness from clit to entrance in deliberate, filthy strokes. you gasp, hips twitching despite yourself. “joon—ahh… he can see everything,” you whine, mortified, but you don’t pull away. instead, your head falls back against namjoon’s shoulder as he circles your clit with teasing pressure.

“that’s the point, baby,” namjoon growls, nipping at your neck. “i want him to see every inch. watch how she throbs when i touch her.” he sinks one finger inside you slowly, curling it deep while his thumb keeps rubbing lazy circles on your swollen clit. the wet, obscene sounds of your arousal fill the studio. “feel that, hyung? so fucking tight and greedy. this is what you’ve been jerking off to through the walls.”

yoongi groans low, finally shoving his sweats down enough to free his cock. it’s flushed dark and leaking, and he strokes himself in time with namjoon’s fingers, eyes never leaving your exposed pussy. “god… she’s so wet. looks so soft. i always imagined how you’d sound up close like this.”

“tell him, baby,” namjoon demands, adding a second finger and pumping them deeper, faster, curling against that spot that makes your toes curl. “tell yoongi how much you like him watching you get finger-fucked like a slut on my lap.”

you’re panting now, embarrassment mixing with raw pleasure as your hips roll shamelessly against namjoon’s hand. “i… i like it,” you admit breathlessly, cheeks flaming. “yoongi… it’s making me so wet. i didn’t know you wanted me this bad.”

namjoon laughs softly, proud and dirty, scissoring his fingers to stretch you open. “hear that? she’s clenching so hard just from your eyes on her. rub your clit for him, baby. show him exactly how you like it.”

your hand trembles as you reach down, spreading yourself wider with two fingers while namjoon keeps fucking you with his. yoongi’s strokes speed up, thumb swiping over his leaking tip as he watches every detail—your slick dripping down namjoon’s hand, the way your pussy flutters visibly.

“fuck, she’s perfect,” yoongi mutters, voice wrecked and shy. “so pink and messy… i’d give anything to taste her.”

namjoon’s free hand comes up to pinch and roll your nipple through your dress, voice rough with dominance. “not yet. today you watch and learn how to make her cum properly. look at her face, hyung—eyes all glassy because she loves making your dirty little secret come true.”

you moan louder, the combination of namjoon’s skilled fingers, his dirty words, and yoongi’s intense, starved gaze pushing you closer to the edge. “i’m—fuck… i’m so close…”

“cum for us, baby,” namjoon commands, thrusting his fingers harder, thumb pressing firm on your clit. “show yoongi how pretty you look falling apart while he strokes his cock to you.”

your orgasm crashes over you hard, thighs shaking as you cry out, pussy gushing around namjoon’s fingers. yoongi groans deeply, pumping himself faster, completely lost in the sight of you cumming so shamelessly in front of him.

namjoon doesn’t stop, milking every last tremor from you while kissing your neck. “good girl. we’re just getting started. aren’t we, hyung?”

yoongi’s hand is moving faster on his cock, flushed and leaking, eyes glued to the way your pussy flutters around namjoon’s fingers. “fuck… please, namjoon. just let me touch her. one hand. i need to feel how soft she is.”

namjoon chuckles low and dark, pulling his fingers out of you with a wet sound and bringing them to your mouth. you suck them clean obediently, tasting yourself, eyes half-lidded. “not a chance,” namjoon says calmly, dominant edge sharp in his voice. “don’t be greedy, hyung. you don’t get to touch my woman yet. you watch and learn.”

you’re still panting, embarrassed heat flooding your face even as your hips roll back against namjoon’s hard cock trapped beneath you. “joon… it’s too much,” you whisper, voice shaky, but your body is aching for more.

namjoon grips your hips and lifts you slightly, freeing his thick cock from his pants. he rubs the fat head along your soaked folds, teasing your clit before lining up. “you ready to watch me fuck her, hyung?”

without waiting, he pulls you down onto him in one slow, deep thrust, stretching you open around his girth. you moan loudly, head falling back against his chest as he fills you completely. “oh god—joon”

“that’s right, baby,” namjoon groans, starting to bounce you on his lap with steady, powerful thrusts. the wet slap of your ass meeting his thighs echoes in the studio. “look at him. eyes all fucked out just from seeing how my cock disappears inside this tight little pussy.”

yoongi strokes himself desperately, breath ragged. “she sounds so good… fuck, the way she’s taking you. please, just her thigh or something—i’m so close already.”

“no,” namjoon snaps, one hand sliding down to rub your clit in firm circles while the other grips your hip, controlling every bounce. “you want any chance at her later? then you hold it. watch how she squeezes me when i hit that spot right here—”

he angles his hips and thrusts up hard, hitting deep inside you. you cry out, clenching around him, the pleasure making your thighs shake. “yoongi…” you manage between moans, still flushed with shame but getting off on his starved gaze.

namjoon laughs softly, filthy and proud. “hear that? she’s talking to you while i’m balls deep in her. you could never fuck her like this, hyung. you’d probably cum in seconds just from feeling how wet and hot she is. pathetic.”

yoongi groans miserably, slowing his strokes to obey but clearly struggling, pre-cum dripping over his fist. “i know… shit, i know i would. she’s too perfect. the way her tits bounce under that dress—fuck.”

namjoon keeps fucking you steadily, deep and rhythmic, never letting you catch your breath. his fingers work your clit faster, voice low and commanding in your ear. “cum on my cock, baby. show him how you fall apart for me. let yoongi see what a good little slut you are when you’re properly fucked.”

the dirty words, the relentless drag of his thick cock against your walls, and yoongi’s desperate, hungry stare push you over the edge again. you came hard around him, moaning loudly, pussy gushing and fluttering as your whole body shakes in his lap. namjoon fucks you through it, praising you softly. “that’s it. good girl.”

yoongi looks wrecked, hand frozen on his throbbing cock, veins standing out as he fights not to cum. “please, namjoon… i can’t—i need something.”

namjoon slows his thrusts but stays buried deep inside you, letting you catch your breath while still rocking gently. he smirks at yoongi. “you held it. good. maybe you deserve a little reward.”

namjoon’s voice stays low and commanding. “baby, get on your knees for him. on the floor. show him how good that mouth feels.”

your heart hammers with fresh embarrassment, face burning hot. “joon…” you whisper, voice shaky even as your pussy clenches hard around his cock at the filthy idea. you’re still so exposed, legs spread wide over his thighs, but the thought of being on your knees in front of your boyfriend with another man’s dick in your mouth makes another rush of wetness drip down your thighs.

“that’s right,” namjoon murmurs against your ear, nipping at it. “don’t be shy now. he’s been dreaming about this for months. let him see you like the pretty little slut you are for us.”

he lifts you off his cock with a wet pop, helping you slide down to the floor. you end up on your hands and knees right in front of yoongi’s chair, ass up and back arched, your short dress still bunched uselessly around your waist. yoongi’s cock is right at eye level, hard and leaking, and he stares down at you like he can’t believe this is real.

namjoon kneels behind you on the floor, gripping your hips firmly. “go on, baby. take him in your mouth while i fuck this pussy again. eyes on him the whole time.”

you hesitate for a second, cheeks flaming with shame, but the ache between your legs wins. you wrap a trembling hand around yoongi’s base and lean forward, taking his flushed head into your warm mouth. your tongue swirls around the tip, tasting the salty pre-cum as you suck gently.

yoongi lets out a broken groan, hips twitching. “fuck—your mouth… so fucking warm and soft. i’ve thought about this so many times…”

namjoon doesn’t wait. he lines himself up and pushes back into you in one deep thrust, bottoming out with a groan. the force makes you moan around yoongi’s cock, taking him deeper into your throat. “that’s it,” namjoon growls, starting a steady, punishing rhythm. “suck him while i ruin you. look at him, baby. see how desperate he is just from your tongue.”

you do, eyes watering as you look up at yoongi through your lashes, bobbing your head slowly while namjoon fucks you harder. the position has you completely trapped between them — ass up, getting railed, mouth full of yoongi’s cock. the wet sounds are obscene: skin slapping against your ass, the slick glide of your lips around yoongi, your own muffled moans.

“she’s so tight,” namjoon taunts, one hand reaching around to grab at your chest. “you like watching her choke on your dick?”

yoongi’s hand hovers near your head but doesn’t touch, respecting namjoon’s rules even as he pants. “yes… fuck, i do. her mouth feels too good. i’m so close already, please—”

“not yet,” namjoon snaps, slamming into you deeper, the angle hitting that perfect spot inside you with every thrust. “you don’t cum until i do. hold it if you want to keep feeling her.”

you whimper loudly around yoongi’s cock, the vibration making him curse and twitch against your tongue. the embarrassment is still there — being fucked on all fours like this in the studio, sucking your boyfriend’s best friend while he watches — but it only makes everything hotter. your juices drip down your thighs with every thrust.

namjoon leans over your back, voice rough and full of lust. “you love this, don’t you baby? getting used from both ends. tell yoongi how much you like his cock in your mouth.”

you pull off yoongi’s cock for a second, gasping for air, strings of spit connecting your lips to his tip. “i—i love it,” you admit breathlessly, voice wrecked. “i love your cock in my mouth.”

yoongi’s head falls back, groaning. “shit…”

namjoon thrusts harder, fingers digging into your hips. “eyes on him, baby. don’t stop sucking. we’re not done until you cum on my cock again and he’s earned his turn down your throat.”

the overwhelming fullness, the filthy sounds, and yoongi’s wrecked expression staring down at you push you straight to the brink. your moans grow louder around his cock as pleasure coils tighter and tighter.

“that’s it—cum on me,” namjoon growls.

your climax hits like a wave, crashing through you hard. your pussy spasms wildly around namjoon’s cock, thighs quivering as you cry out around yoongi, the sound muffled and broken. slick coats his length and drips down your legs while you keep sucking through the intense pulses.

yoongi curses, barely hanging on. “namjoon… i can’t—please, i need to cum.”

namjoon keeps fucking you through your orgasm, drawing it out until you’re shaking. “go ahead. fill her mouth. give her everything you’ve been holding back for so long.”

yoongi finally breaks. his cock twitches hard on your tongue before he spills, thick and hot, flooding your throat in several heavy spurts. you swallow as best you can, some escaping the corner of your lips as you whimper softly.

namjoon’s thrusts turn erratic and deep, chasing his own release. “good job, baby. now take mine too.” with a low, guttural sound he buries himself to the hilt and cums, pulsing inside you in long, warm bursts that leave you feeling full and claimed.

the three of you stay locked like that for a long moment — heavy breathing filling the studio, bodies slick with sweat. namjoon eventually pulls out slowly, watching his cum leak from your used pussy with dark satisfaction. you ease off yoongi’s softening cock, lips shiny and swollen, collapsing onto your side on the floor in a boneless, satisfied heap.

yoongi slumps back in his chair, looking dazed and grateful. “that was… i don’t even have words.”

namjoon runs a gentle hand down your back, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. “you were perfect, baby” he murmurs to you, then glances at yoongi with a smirk. “behave yourself and maybe next time i’ll let you fuck her.”

it had been two whole days. two whole days since that last incident at taehyung’s house.

you still saw him everytime you closed your eyes. you still felt him — his face frowning, his lips attached to your neck, his moans sweet in your ears, his hands gripping at your waist, his cock pulsing inside you.

you shook your head. stop.

“you’re doing it again.” your friend said, tilting her head to look at you.

“what?” you asked confused.

“that look, like you’re not here.”

you weren’t.

“you’ve been doing it since you skipped class the other day.”

you held tight to the strap of your bag. “it’s nothing. i just haven’t been sleeping that well.” you lied, which seemed to be enough for her to let the subject go.

you both walked through the gates of hell — better known as haneul academy — making your way toward the huge white building. without thinking, your eyes scanned the courtyard, searching for him before you could stop yourself. for two entire days you had done everything possible to avoid him: changing routes between classes, leaving lectures early, skipping the ones you knew he attended, and turning corners the second you caught sight of him. you couldn’t risk being near him again. you knew yourself too well — you knew exactly what would happen if you were.

“he’s so hot.” your friend interrupted your thoughts.

you turned your head to look at her, then followed the direction of her gaze.

fuck.

a few yards away stood the usual group. jimin was laughing at something one of the guys had said, while jungkook lazily sucked on his cigarette, clearly amused as he watched two others argue. none of them were paying attention — except one. one single dark haired guy in the middle of all that chaos. kim taehyung.

your stomach immediately tightened. he stood slightly apart from the group, leaning against a concrete pillar, arms crossed over his chest. not talking, not laughing, just watching… you.

“should i go ask him for a cigarette?” you looked away first, and back at your friend.

you frowned. “you don’t even smoke.”

she looked at jungkook with awe, completely ignoring your words. you risked a quick glance back at taehyung — just long enough to see he was still staring right at you.

“let’s go.” you hurried, grabbing her arm and stepping away from the courtyard. you could still feel his eyes on your back as you walked away.

—

the lecture felt endless. not because the material was difficult, but because your concentration had abandoned you somewhere around the second slide and never returned. every time the professor called on someone, every time a chair scraped across the floor, every time a phone vibrated somewhere in the room, your attention snapped towards the sound before drifting right back to the same place it had been for the last two days. the laundry room.

by the time you finally raised your hand and asked to leave for the restroom, you felt like you were suffocating.

you stepped into the empty hallway, quiet and peaceful. you let a sigh leave your lips, your eyes flickering before making your way to the ladies’ restroom.

you placed your hands beneath the running water and stared at your reflection in the mirror, letting the cold water run over your fingers as you tried to gather your thoughts.

it lasted less than thirty seconds.

the door opened behind you, something tightening in your stomach before you even looked up. instinct. you met the reflection in the mirror and there he was, standing just inside the doorway. your breath stalled and for a second neither of you moved. then the door clicked shut behind him.

quickly you turned around. “what are you doing here?” you shot at him.

his expression didn’t change, steady and calm, but his eyes had something dark in them. he stayed silent for a moment.

“you’ve been avoiding me.” a murmur.

you blinked. “i haven’t.”

“you’ve switched hallways four times.”

you swallowed dry.

“you left campus through the east gate yesterday even though you live in the opposite direction.”

“how do you even know where i li—“

“you skipped professor han’s lecture.” he paused. “and you left the library twenty minutes after i walked in.” he tilted his head, examining your face.

none of those things should have been information he had.

“have you been following me?” you asked, slightly speechless.

his eyes narrowed slightly. “no.”

you laughed once, a humorless sound. “right.”

“you think i need to follow you?” the arrogance in his voice should have annoyed you, instead it made you nervous.

“then how do you know where i am all the time?”

for the first time, he hesitated, briefly, then he looked away, sighing while running his fingers through his hair.

“i have my ways.” he blinked back at you again.

“you’re a stalker,” you whispered. “i’m leaving.”

you walked straight toward him, trying to slip past and reach the door, but he was faster. his hand shot out, wrapping tightly around your arm and pinning you against the wall. his other hand slammed beside your face with a sharp thud that made you flinch.

“where are you going?” his eyes burned into yours.

“to class. to a place where you’re not." you spat back, trying to maintain a defiance you didn’t feel.

“stop running away.” he gritted his teeth, anger flashing in his eyes. he leaned down, lips hovering just above your ear. you shivered, heat rushing down your spine. “i know you want this,” he whispered, voice low and dangerous. “stop pretending like you don’t.”

“tae—“ you gasped, squeezing your eyes shut as his lips brushed against your neck. “what happened shouldn’t have happened.” you forced your eyes open, his face inches from yours. the grip on your arm softened, but his gaze remained locked on you.

“why not?” he breathed, his eyes tracing the line of your jaw, then up to your lips, before returning to your eyes. “didn’t like it?” he licked his lips, a slow, deliberate action that made your stomach clench. “you’re gonna act like you haven’t been thinking about it?” his lips brushed against the skin of your neck, just enough to give you goosebumps. “every minute…” they placed a soft, open-mouthed kiss that elicited a whimper from your throat “…of every day.” you clenched your fists, fighting the desperate urge to reach for him. “bet you’re so fucking wet right now.” he trailed off, his tongue tracing a path from the bottom to the top of your neck, sending tremors through your body. you felt the undeniable heat pooling between your legs, your panties clinging uncomfortably to your skin.

suddenly, his hand moved from your arm to the front pocket of his own slacks. he reached inside, and your breath caught in your throat as he slowly pulled out a small, crumpled piece of fabric. it was your underwear, the lace trim familiar and damning. your face flushed red.

“remember these?” he asked, his voice laced with a wicked amusement. he held them up, the fabric a stark contrast against his skin. “left them at my place the other day. i’ve been keeping them safe.” he brought them to his nose, inhaling deeply, his eyes closing for a moment as he savored the scent. “been… using them,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a husky murmur, making you shudder. “every time i think about you.” he looked back at you, his pupils dilated, a primal hunger burning in their depths. he brought the underwear to his lips and pressed a kiss against the fabric, his gaze never leaving yours. “and you,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire, “you still smell so fucking good.” he didn’t need to touch you. the mere sight of him holding your intimate garment, the raw confession of his prolonged torment, was enough to make you squirm, your body betraying you with every throb of pleasure.

his eyes darkened even further, a wicked smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he watched you squirm against the wall, your heart hammering so hard you could barely breathe.

“i can smell you from right here, baby,” he murmured, voice low and rough. “that sweet little cunt is dripping for me already, isn’t it?” he leaned in closer, lips brushing your ear. “i’ve waited two fucking days to taste you. i’m not waiting anymore.”

your stomach flipped violently, heat flooding your entire body as your pussy clenched hard around nothing. you were soaked, aching, and the way he looked at you made your legs tremble.

before you could respond, taehyung dropped to his knees in front of you. his large hands slid up your thighs, roughly pushing the pleated uniform skirt up to your waist, bunching the fabric around your hips. the cool air hit your drenched panties and you shivered, embarrassment and arousal mixing dangerously inside you.

he stared at the obvious wet patch darkening the lace, eyes hungry.

“fuck… look at you.” he leaned forward and pressed his mouth right against your covered pussy, kissing the soaked fabric hard. a broken whimper tore from your throat as his hot breath and firm lips teased your throbbing clit through the thin material. your knees nearly gave out.

“i knew it,” he groaned against you, the vibration making your clit pulse desperately. “i knew you were this fucking wet.” he dragged his tongue slowly up the length of your slit over the panties, tasting your arousal through the lace. “soaking right through them for me.”

your head fell back against the wall, breath coming in short, shaky gasps. every slow lick made you throb harder, made more slick leak out of you. you were losing your mind, hips twitching forward involuntarily, desperate for more.

he played with you like that for torturous minutes — sucking on the fabric, licking long, firm stripes over your swollen clit, pressing the flat of his tongue hard against you while his hands gripped your thighs, keeping you spread open for him. every time you tried to roll your hips for more friction, he pulled back just enough to keep you on edge, teasing you mercilessly until you were whimpering pathetically.

“ta-taehyung… please—” you gasped, fingers threading tightly into his dark hair, tugging desperately.

he finally hooked two fingers into the crotch of your ruined panties and yanked them roughly to the side, exposing your glistening, swollen pussy completely.

“such a pretty fucking pussy,” he growled, before diving in.

taehyung buried his face between your thighs with zero hesitation. his thick, hot tongue dragged flat from your dripping hole all the way up to your throbbing clit, lapping up every drop of your slick like a man starved. he moaned loudly into your cunt, the deep sound vibrating through your core and making your eyes roll back.

your mind went blank. the pleasure was overwhelming, almost too much. your thighs shook as he sucked your clit into his hot mouth, tongue flicking rapidly over the sensitive bundle of nerves while two long fingers pushed inside you without warning, curling instantly against that spot that made stars explode behind your eyelids. you cried out, gripping his hair tighter, barely able to stay standing as he fucked you with his fingers and devoured your pussy at the same time.

he ate you like he was addicted — messy, loud, and completely shameless. wet, obscene slurping and sucking sounds filled the restroom as he licked and sucked, his nose pressed against your mound while his tongue worked relentlessly over your swollen clit. he pulled back for just a second, strings of your arousal connecting his shiny lips to your cunt, before spitting on your clit and diving back in even harder.

“god, you taste so fucking good,” he groaned against your folds, voice muffled and filthy. “better than i imagined. i could eat this pussy for hours.” his fingers pumped faster, curling and scissoring inside your tight, dripping heat while his lips wrapped around your clit again, sucking hard.

you were a complete mess — moaning brokenly, hips grinding against his face, thighs trembling violently around his head. the coil in your stomach wound tighter and tighter with every filthy stroke of his tongue, every thrust of his fingers. you could feel yourself dripping down his chin, could hear how wet you were with every loud slurp, and the sheer intensity of it all had you right on the edge, seconds away from falling apart.

your orgasm hit you like a freight train. your whole body seized up, thighs clamping around his head as you came hard on his tongue, waves of blinding pleasure crashing through you. a strangled cry escaped your lips before you could stop it, your pussy pulsing and gushing around his fingers while he kept licking and sucking, dragging out every last second of your release until you were shaking and whimpering.

the bell rang loudly through the hallway, sharp and sudden.

your eyes flew open in panic. “shit— taehyung—” you gasped, still trembling from your orgasm, legs weak.

but he was already moving. he stood up fast, wiping his glistening mouth with the back of his hand, eyes dark with hunger. before you could protest, he grabbed your wrist and dragged you into the nearest stall, slamming the door shut and locking it just as voices started echoing down the hallway.

he pinned you against the cold tiled wall instantly, one hand clamping tightly over your mouth. “shh,” he breathed against your ear, already yanking your panties down your thighs. “you’re gonna take my cock like a good girl and stay quiet.”

you barely had time to process before he freed his hard, throbbing cock and pushed inside you in one deep thrust, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. he gripped your thigh firmly, holding you up against the wall as he sank even deeper. your eyes rolled back, a muffled moan vibrating against his palm as he stretched you open. he was so thick, so deep, and you were still fluttering from your orgasm, making everything feel impossibly intense.

“fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight,” he groaned quietly, starting to fuck you hard. his hips snapped against yours with deep, punishing strokes, the wet sound of your pussy taking his cock echoing obscenely in the small stall.

students started pouring into the restroom. chatter, laughter, running water — all of it just inches away from where taehyung was fucking you senseless against the wall.

you struggled, biting down hard on your lip, trying desperately not to moan. but every brutal thrust made it harder. a broken whimper slipped out against his hand. then another.

taehyung smirked, clearly amused. “can’t control yourself on my cock, huh?” he whispered, voice low and teasing as he pounded into you even harder, grinding deep. “so fucking pathetic… moaning while everyone’s right there.”

your eyes watered from the effort of staying quiet. every time his cock dragged against that perfect spot inside you, another muffled whimper or moan escaped. he loved it — you could tell by the way his cock twitched inside you and the dark chuckle against your ear.

he fucked you relentlessly, hips snapping fast and deep, one hand still covering your mouth while the other gripped your thigh, holding you open for him. the risk, the voices outside, the way he was ruining you — it was all too much.

your second orgasm crashed into you without warning. your pussy clenched hard around his cock, spasming and milking him as pleasure ripped through your body. you cried out against his palm, the sound barely contained.

“fuck— that’s it,” taehyung groaned, voice strained. a few more brutal thrusts and he buried himself deep, cumming hard inside you with a low, shaky moan. you felt every pulse, every hot spurt filling you up as he rode out his release, hips jerking against yours.

you both stayed pressed together, breathing heavily. the loud bell rang again. slowly, the voices outside started to fade as students left the restroom. taehyung finally pulled his hand from your mouth, but he didn’t pull out. instead, he stayed buried inside you, softening slightly while keeping his cum plugged deep in your cunt.

“taehyung… we have to go,” you whispered shakily, cheeks burning with humiliation and leftover pleasure.

he smirked, pressing a lazy kiss to your neck. “not yet.” he slowly pulled out, but before you could even think about reaching for your panties, he pushed two fingers back into your sensitive hole, scooping his cum deeper inside you. “you’re gonna keep every drop of my cum inside this pretty pussy, understand?”

your eyes widened. “what? no— i can’t—”

“you can and you will,” he said firmly, voice low and commanding as he pulled your panties back up, pressing the fabric tight against your leaking cunt. “no cleaning up, no fixing yourself. i want you walking around this school with my cum dripping into your panties, feeling me with every step. so maybe that way you won’t think about running from me again.” he leaned closer, lips brushing your ear. “and if you’re good… maybe i’ll fuck you again after classes.”

your face burned with embarrassment, but a fresh wave of arousal twisted in your stomach. you could already feel his warm cum slowly leaking out of you, soaking into the lace as he smoothed your skirt back down.

he unlocked the stall door, checking quickly before pulling you out with him. the hallway was starting to empty again. you walked beside him on shaky legs, hyper-aware of the slick, messy feeling between your thighs with every single step. your cheeks were flushed, heart racing, terrified someone would notice the way you were walking or the faint wet sound you swore you could hear.

taehyung glanced at you with dark satisfaction, a smug little smirk on his lips as he watched you try to act normal.

“good girl,” he murmured under his breath. “now go to class… and don’t you dare let it drip down your legs.”

—

the rest of the day passed in a hazy blur. every step you took made you painfully aware of the mess between your thighs — taehyung’s cum slowly leaking out of you, soaking into your ruined panties with every movement. you kept your thighs pressed together as you sat through lectures, face burning whenever you felt another warm trickle slip out. you didn’t dare go to the bathroom to clean up. his words kept echoing in your head: keep every drop inside you.

when the final bell rang, you found yourself taking the long way through the courtyard and lingering near the gates longer than necessary, eyes subtly scanning the usual spots. but he wasn’t there. not leaning against his usual pillar, not surrounded by the others. the disappointment that settled in your chest annoyed you more than you wanted to admit.

you walked home on unsteady legs, hyper-aware of the mess still trapped against your skin.

the second you stepped into your room and closed the door behind you, your phone buzzed on the desk. an unknown number.

unknown: sorry i disappeared, something came up. been thinking about you the whole fucking day tho

you stared at the screen, heart racing. how the hell did he get your number?

another message followed immediately.

unknown: be a good girl and send me a picture of your panties. show me how soaked they are with my cum. i want to see what a mess i left inside that pretty pussy.

you bit your lip, thighs clenching at his words. even when he wasn’t there, he still had you completely under his control.

your hands trembled slightly as you slipped your skirt up and took the photo, the white lace ruined and soaked with his cum. you sent it before you could overthink it.

his reply came faster than you expected.

unknown: fuck… look at that. such a messy little thing for me. that’s a good girl.

you bit your lip, pulse racing as another text appeared right after.

unknown: be ready for me tomorrow. i’m nowhere near done with you yet.

you let out a shaky breath, thighs pressing together as heat flooded your body all over again.

you paced around your bedroom nervously, grabbing your makeup brush from the vanity on the way to the mirror one more time to fix your blush. it was probably the third or fourth time you were doing it, and obviously it still looked the same, but you were trying, in a foolish attempt, to make yourself look not like yourself.

you smoothed your hands over your shirt one more time before checking your hair again, then checking your phone, then the mirror, then your phone again, because even though the message he’d sent the night before clearly said he’d be there around noon, you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering exactly when that would be.

jungkook wasn’t the kind of person who sent updates. he wasn’t going to text you that he was on his way and he wasn’t going to tell you how many minutes away he was. he would simply appear, and that gave you the worst anxiety every time.

all of a sudden, the low rumble of a motorcycle drifted through the open crack of your window and your entire body froze. before your brain could catch up, you embarrassingly crossed the room at what felt like the speed of light and reached the window almost instantly, pulling the curtain aside and looking down just in time to see the familiar black motorcycle turn into the driveway, sunlight catching briefly against the metal before jungkook slowed to a stop.

your stomach tightened immediately, just like every other time. it didn’t matter how often you saw him, or that you’d known he was coming, or that you had spent half the morning preparing for this exact moment, somehow the sight of him always made your pulse jump.

jungkook killed the engine and removed his helmet. he ran a hand through his dark hair, messy and slightly damp from the heat, then looked up towards your room almost immediately, as though he had known from the start that you would be waiting there. the grin that spread across his face confirmed it.

you clenched your legs together in anticipation. just the mere sight of him, black shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, tattoos visible beneath the tight rolled sleeves and motorcycle between his legs, it was enough to send you into a spiral.

trying not to smile back, you pushed the window open and leaned slightly outside, the warm breeze brushing against your face while he tilted his head farther back to look at you.

“rapunzel, rapunzel, let down your hair.” he said mockingly, laughing at his own joke.

you rolled your eyes and let out a small chuckle. “you’re so stupid.”

“you’re in a giant tower, i’m down here, all we’re missing is the hair” he gestured dramatically towards your window.

“it’s my house, not a tower.”

“it’s basically a tower”

“it’s not”

“then explain why i’m having to communicate with you from twenty feet below”

you shook your head, trying not to smile as he grinned up at you.

“you know, i’ve told you before not to park in the driveway.”

jungkook glanced over at his bike. “why not?”

“my parents could see you.”

“didn’t you say they wouldn’t be home today?” he frowned his eyebrow.

“yeah but—“

“then what’s the problem?” you sighed at the interruption, defeated.

he lifted his leg over the bike, stepping out and placing the helmet over the rearview mirror.

“now come on baby, be a good girl and come open this door for me.” he didn’t even look at you, walking right towards the front door.

your cheeks burned up once you felt the wetness starting to pool in your panties. it was embarrassing how much his simple words affected you. you knew he had you wrapped around his finger.

you ran to the door, trying not to trip on your way down the stairs, stopping right in front of it just to fix your hair one more time before slowly opening the big block of wood.

he was leaning slightly against the door frame, so close you had to take a step back. he looked up at you, his eyes dark and steady. he didn’t speak at first, just letting the silence sit there between you while his gaze slowly traced over your face like he was making sure you were real.

you swallowed dry, forcing your voice to work properly. “what?”

he smiled, a tiny smile on the corner of his lips. “you look pretty.”

you felt your cheeks burning again, and you were sure he noticed too. you fumbled nervously with the hem of your skirt, looking down at the floor to avoid eye contact. but quickly enough jungkook was taking one step closer, his hand reaching under your chin, his thumb on one side and the rest of his fingers on the other, squeezing your cheeks together slightly and forcing you to look up at him.

“you know i don’t like when you avoid me.” he shook his head slowly in disapproval and for some reason you felt this sense of shame, as if you had wronged him in the worst way possible.

“sorry.” you said, almost as a whisper.

he slowly let go of your face, his eyes still locked on yours, and this time you forced yourself not to look the opposite direction.

“that’s my girl.” there was that smirk again, a mixture of proud and evil.

you suddenly snapped to reality, pulling him in by his wrist “come in before the neighbours see you.” and shutting the door behind him.

he laughed, throwing his head back. “do you think they’re gonna hunt me down if they see me here?” he joked.

you rolled your eyes. “you know i’ll get in trouble if word gets around that you’ve been coming here while my parents are gone.” you hesitated. “…they hate you.”

he frowned. “they never met me.”

“they hate guys like you.” you gestured to him. “it’s unthinkable for their daughter to be dating a guy like you.” you said sarcastically.

he smirked. “oh are we dating now?”

you hit his chest making him stumble back, his laugh echoing through the house. “you know what i mean… asshole.” you whispered that last part.

“what did you say?” his eyebrow raised, his voice calm and steady, his feet stepping closer to you again.

“nothing.” you chuckled slightly, trying to hide your smile while you stepped back further away from him but his body was much taller than you, towering over you and your stomach twisted at the sight.

“such a filthy mouth huh?” suddenly he grabbed your wrist, pulling you forcefully against his chest, closing the gap between you, his eyes burning into yours. “say that again.” his voice was threatening but still calm. you knew he wasn’t actually mad, the small curl on the corner of his mouth giving it away. he was playing with you, teasing you.

“wanna watch a movie?” you smiled innocently, changing the subject quickly.

he chuckled, releasing the grip on your wrist slightly. “if that’s what you want, baby.”

“come on.” this time you were the one holding onto his wrist, pulling him with you up the stairs. “my parents bought me a new tv for my bedroom, its huge.” you said excitingly, which seemed to amuse him since you heard a small laugh behind you.

“spoiled as always.”

“shut up.” you quickly reached your bedroom, jungkook following after you.

he never quite got used to the size of it. it made no sense to him how big it was, especially since he lived in the smallest apartment known to man, it was all he could afford, but at least he had his own place all to himself. he still asked you from time to time how you handled still living with your parents. it was unthinkable for him to still live with his, he would rather die.

“isn’t it so cool?” you said, taking a small jump next to the big tv. he found your excitement rather cute.

“so cool princess.” he wasn’t mocking you or teasing you. he loved seeing your genuine smile whenever he agreed with you or encouraged you.

“oh…” you looked around your room, searching for something. jungkook’s gaze followed yours, confused. “i think my parents left the remote at their room. my dad was checking something yesterday.” you made your way out of the bedroom. “i’ll go get it, just stay here.”

and with that you walked a few steps down the hallway and into your parents’ bedroom. if jungkook thought your room was big, then he would be flabbergasted at the sheer size of this one. it looked like a dining hall but with a bed instead of a table.

you searched over the desk, moving a couple things to the side until you saw the small remote over at the corner, grabbing it quickly.

to your surprise, once you turned around, jungkook was standing right in the middle of the room, his mouth agape, staring around, a dumbfounded expression splattered all over his face.

“was this really necessary?” he took a few steps forward, still analysing the furniture around him. “why do two people need this much space?” he shook his head slightly, stunned.

“i told you to stay in the bedroom.” you whined, walking over towards him.

“what’s the problem?” he sank down onto the bed, bouncing slightly, testing the mattress. “soft, it’s nice.” he grinned at you.

“jungkook!” you went over to him, trying to pull him by his wrist but failing. he was naturally much stronger than you, he didn’t even flinch. “get up from there, i’m being serious.”

“oh baby, you’re so scary when you’re being serious.” he mocked, chuckling.

you rolled your eyes and before you could continue complaining, you felt his hands wrapping around your waist, pulling you in between his legs, your bare ones rubbing slightly against the rough material of his jeans. you were now face to face with him, unable to escape, his grip tight on you.

“don’t get upset baby.” his voice was softer now, almost melodic, his lips landing softly against your collarbone, planting a kiss there that made your body shiver.

“jungkook—“

“shh…” another kiss, this time higher, at the base of your neck. your eyes fluttered shut, your hands squeezing the fabric of his shirt on his shoulders.

“let’s go back to my room.” your voice was shaky, your mind starting to fade.

“i don’t want to.” he muttered against your neck, trailing kisses over your skin, wetter, open mouth kisses now. “i want to have you here.”

you gasped, his lips and teeth pulling at the skin, sucking harder. you knew that was gonna leave a mark there and more importantly, he knew it too.

“jungk—“ his tongue traced your skin. “we can’t… please.” you begged, the pool of wetness inside your panties contradicting your words.

“want me to stop?” his fingers slowly went up the back of your bare thighs, teasingly slow, reaching just slightly under the hem of your skirt and kneading at the skin softly.

you squeezed your legs together in reflex and heard him chuckle at the reaction.

“no…” so soft it was barely audible.

“that’s what i thought. good girl.” his hands reached the back of your head, his fingers mingling between the strands of your hair, pulling you flush against him, forcing your lips into a deep kiss, his tongue immediately slipping past them.

you felt that familiar pulse between your legs and moaned softly against his lips.

you couldn’t believe you were doing this here, in your parents’ bedroom. the ideia of it was filthy, dirty, but somehow it turned you on even more, the thrill of it making you increasingly excited.

“you wanna be fucked so bad, don’t you baby?” he muttered between kisses, giving you some room to catch your breath, barely.

his hands wandered down again, this time squeezing your ass tightly, making you whine.

you couldn’t make sense of words, everything was a blur in your mind, so you just nodded your head eagerly in response.

“yeah i know baby.” it came out of his lips almost like a moan. you knew he was painfully hard already. just the thought of it made you salivate. “such a little slut, aren’t you?”

you nodded again, he chuckled, evil. his hands held your waist tightly, pulling you to sit on his lap, one leg on either side of him, and there it was. your thoughts confirmed. his hard on pressing against his jeans, ready to burst, and you let out the lewdest moan when he pressed you down against it, your clothed pussy rubbing deliciously against the rough material.

he guided your hips back and forth on his bulge, your wetness slipping through your panties and onto him, leaving a small stain, barely noticeable against the dark color of his jeans, but you felt embarrassed at how ready you were already, so ready for him.

“get on your knees.” his voice was low, and you were surprised at how steady it still was, considering you were a fucking mess already.

he didn’t need to repeat it twice, you willingly got up and dropped to your knees in front of him, positioning your body between his legs, and placing your hands on his thighs. he looked down at you, his lips flushed red, his eyes so dark you could barely see any white in them.

“you want this cock, baby?” he rubbed his hand over his bulge, squeezing slightly and your mouth watered.

“yeah…” you whispered, doe eyes looking up at him.

“want it in your mouth, huh?” you bit your bottom lip in anticipation and nodded your head eagerly.

a big smirk splattered all over his lips and with just one hand he unbuckled his belt. the sound of the buckle alone made you grip harder at his legs, your nails digging slightly and your stomach twisting in anticipation.

he unzipped his pants and slipped his hand covered in tattoos inside, pulling his cock free. your mouth watered at the sight of it, hard, thick, pulsing lightly, his tip already glistening.

he moved his hand slowly up and down on his shaft. “open up baby.” you complied instantly, parting your lips and sticking out your tongue slightly, ready to take him. “good girl.” he said lustfully, tapping the tip of his cock on your tongue, a string of spit and pre cum attaching your tongue to him.

“you’re gonna take all of it, do you understand?” his other hand made its way to the back of your head, holding a handful of your hair and pulling back slightly, making you whine. “you want it don’t you, slut.” the degrading name made you pulse and you nodded as you wrapped your lips around his cock, sucking in the tip, earning a low guttural grunt from jungkook, his eyes fluttering close.

you worked your tongue around the tip, slowly taking more and more of him into your mouth. he swayed his arm back, hand resting on the mattress behind him, relaxing his body and taking in the view of your pretty lips wrapped around him. it was something he couldn’t get enough of.

you felt his other hand pushing your head forward slightly, giving you time to adjust. you knew you only had a very short amount of time before the gentleness vanished. you bobbed your head up and down while jungkook moaned softly between his teeth.

“you’re taking it so well baby, that’s it.” he encouraged you, the grip on your hair getting tighter, and you felt him forcing your head down more, until your lips were right at the base of his cock, feeling his tip hitting the back of your throat. he kept your head there for a moment, his hand not letting you move at all, his eyes staring straight into yours with a lustfull shine to them, and you saw his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, containing a moan from slipping out.

“fuck baby…” he breathed out. “you look so pretty with your mouth full of my cock.”

your wetness was starting to drip down the side of your legs, his words making you want to show him how good you could be, you wanted to make him proud so bad.

without warning he started to thrust into your mouth, slowly at first, but as soon as he felt the vibration of your moans around him, and the tears starting to build up on the corners of your eyes, he couldn’t keep it in anymore, he had to ruin you.

he started thrusting faster, harder, and you tried your best not to gag at the force of his cock hitting the back of throat aggressively. his grunts and moans encouraged you to keep going, even tho it was jungkook doing the work for the most part, his hips moving up while his fingers on your hair kept you in place, fucking your mouth relentlessly.

a tear rolled down your cheek and he pulled your head back, a thick strip of spit connecting your lips to the tip of his cock making you gasp, finally being able to catch your breath.

you immediately stuck your tongue out one more time, reaching over to take him in his mouth again but he stopped you by pulling your hair back with force, making your head tilt up slightly, a whimper leaving your lips.

“so eager for my cock, huh? dirty little slut” he smirked looking down at the mess you’d become, planting a small slap on your cheek. “i have other plans for you. get up.” his voice was assertive and you immediately complied, standing up and looking at him waiting for further instructions.

he took a minute staring at you, his eyes moving from your face all the way down to your feet and back up at your eyes, and you could see the mischief in them, which made you both excited and nervous for what was to come.

“strip for me, princess. slowly.” your cheeks immediately burned up at the thought of being observed like that.

“mhm—“ you couldn’t even get started on your sentence, jungkook sighed in disappointment and looked to the side, shaking is head.

“you were being such a good girl.” his eyes caught yours again, but this time he seemed annoyed, almost mad, which made your stomach twist. “you’re gonna make me repeat myself?”

there was a moment of silence between you, his eyebrow raising impatiently, and instead of responding, your fingers made their way to the buttons of your shirt, starting to open one by one. you noticed the smirk forming on his lips again, which made you try to hide your own smile, slightly embarrassed at the exposure.

“what about you?” you asked while you slipped your shirt over your shoulders, letting it hit the floor at your feet.

he chuckled, his head tilting slightly to the side, his eyes trailing down your body. “i see someone already forgot their place. do i have to show you who’s in charge here? you seem to have forgotten, baby.”

your hands shook when they got to the skirt, pulling it down your legs, your feet stepping out of it. “no.” you cursed yourself for not being able to keep your voice steady, giving away just how nervous you were, all exposed like this in front of him. you could feel his eyes eating you up.

“are you sure?” he gestured with his finger for you to step closer and you did. you almost stopped in your tracks when he suddenly got up, his body towering over you. “if you question me one more time i won’t go easy on you, princess.” his finger tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and then smoothed the back of his hand over your cheek. “but maybe that’s what you want huh? wanna be a bad girl today? wanna be fucked like the whore you are?” you clenched around nothing at his filthy words, a slight whine escaping your lips without warning.

suddenly his fingers wrapped around your arm tightly, flipping you around and throwing you onto the bed, making you gasp.

“spread those legs. now.” his gaze was back to a dark color, and you felt eaten alive by them.

you timidly spread your legs in front of him, the large wet stain in your panties confirming what he was already expecting; you were dripping for him already.

“god baby, you really love getting your mouth fucked, don’t you?” he kneeled on top of the bed in front of you and you winced when he trailed a finger over your clothed folds.

“wanna taste you so bad baby.” his words were full of a lust. “you want that? want me to eat that little pussy of yours?” you whimpered in response, biting your bottom lip to keep you from moaning.

“yes kook… please.” you sounded pathetic begging for him, but he loved every second of it. he loved having you vulnerable and desperate for him. he loved having this control over you. he loved corrupting what was usually such a sweet and innocent girl into the slut you became for him.

his fingers wrapped around the sides of your panties, pulling them slowly down your legs, exposing your bare cunt, glistening and dripping with your juices, a sight that made him lick his lips in anticipation. he lowered himself on the bed, his face close enough that you could feel the cold air of his breath against your folds. he placed his hands under your thighs, pushing them up until you were all spread out for him, his grip so tight you couldn’t move even if you tried.

“so fucking wet.” his tongue took a long strip up your slit making you jolt and moan, but his hands kept you in place. he teased you by placing small kisses on your inner thighs, getting closer to where you wanted him most but never fully getting there.

“jk please… want your mouth.” you whined, now being your turn to wrap your fingers in his hair, trying to push his head closer to you but you weren’t nearly strong enough.

you heard him chuckle. “don’t even need to tell you to beg huh?” he spit on your pussy, your body pulsing at the feeling of it sliding over your hole. “who what’ve thought? so innocent when i met you…” his thumb picked up the dripping spit mixed with your juices, smearing it over your clit. “now you’re begging to be fucked in your parents’ room like a slut.” you could tell by his smirk that this was beyond amusing to him, and even tho you felt ashamed that he was right, you didn’t wanna stop. you never wanted to stop.

finally you felt his lips wrapping around your clit, sucking slightly before lapping at your cunt, until he had you squirming under him, your fingers squeezing his hair even harder, making him hiss.

while he worked at your clit, you felt his middle finger enter you slowly, the feeling making you throw your head back and gasp while he started pumping it in and out of you, painfully slow.

just the feeling of his tongue on you was overwhelming, your body shaking and contorting as he picked up pace, lapping vigorously at your clit while his finger curled at just the perfect spot.

suddenly you felt a second finger being inserted, stretching you further, pumping deeper inside you, and the moan it ripped from you was embarrassingly pornographic. heat coiled at the pit of your stomach, your hole clenching around his fingers trying desperately to take more of him. you made the mistake of propping yourself up a little bit, looking down at the sight below you, because what you saw was enough to send you over the edge. jungkook was looking straight into your eyes, dark and lustfull, a faint smirk on his lips as his tongue wrapped and licked over your clit, your juices pooling up on top of it and he gladly took every bit into his mouth. the tattoos on his digits disappearing inside your hole as the ones on his other hand gripped firmly under your thigh, keeping your knee pushed back all the way to your chest.

you bit your lip so hard it almost bled, in a pathetic attempt to keep your moans and whimpers from leaving your mouth but it was in vain. you couldn’t keep it in anymore, it was too much. your eyes fluttered closed and you tilted your head back with pleasure, your hand pushing his head further down into your cunt, fingers pulling so hard on his hair you were scared you were going to rip them off.

“gonna cum baby?” he asked between licks, sucking harshly on your clit, the thrust of his fingers getting quicker.

“ye— yeah… please…” your words were shaky, barely understandable. “wann—a cum.”

“look at me princess.”

you forced your eyes open, barely, looking down at him and seeing his burning into yours. you could feel it building, you were so dangerously close.

he nodded his head at you, his tongue and fingers vigorously working at you, and you knew you had the permission you needed to do what you were trying so hard to hold back.

your orgasm washed over you, so intense your whole body shake, and you caught a glimpse of what seemed a proud look on jungkook’s eyes before letting your head fall back into the bed, your eyes closing, a prolonged moan escaping your lips. your body tried contorting around but you felt both of his hands holding you down, and that’s when you realised his fingers weren’t inside you anymore, only his tongue lapping eagerly at your hole, collecting every last bit of cum you had to give him.

for a moment you thought you had transcended into another dimension, your mind completely faded, gone. suddenly you felt his body hovering over you and you slowly opened your eyes to be greeted with a huge grin on his face, your juices glistening all over his lips and chin. you saw him rubbing the back of his hand over his mouth, attempting to clean some of the mess you left on him but it wasn’t enough for you not to taste yourself when he kissed your lips, open mouth, messy, tongue touching yours softly. he was showing you exactly what you’d done to him, and you felt dirty, a feeling you hated to admit made you even hornier, if that was possible.

he removed his lips from you and for a moment he just stood there, looking down at your fucked up state, his hand coming up to brush away a strand of hair from your face.

“you ok?” he chuckled.

you faintly nodded your head, your fingers trailing over his biceps on either side of your head, feeling him close.

“i’m not done with you yet.” his voice was calm, soft, brushing on the sweet side. “understand?”

you shot your eyes up at him, his grin had disappeared now, replaced with that familiar dark and steady look. now that you could observe him better, you noticed you had left his hair a mess. the dark strands were falling carelessly over his forehead, the rest of his hair disheveled, and somehow he looked even hotter like that.

he straightened his body, standing on just his knees in between your legs. he lifted his shirt up over his head, tossing it somewhere you didn’t care about. without even realising, your hands moved on their own, running your fingers down his exposed abs. his tattoos were now on full show, covering part of his shoulder and all the way down his right arm.

“like what you see, huh baby?” he smirked, placing his own hand over yours, encouraging you to drop lower. “want me to take these off too?” he stopped your hand right at the hem of his jeans and you noticed he had tucked his cock back in his briefs. you whined at the realisation.

“take them off.” you said almost as a complaint, your eyebrows frowning, which earned a short laugh from him.

he got up from the bed, sliding his pants down, standing with just his underwear now, a pair of black calvin klein boxer briefs.

“the underwear too.” you shot at him and he raised his eyebrow, taking one step closer.

“you think you can boss me around?” his hand wrapped around your neck, not to the point of chocking but a firm grip on it, pulling your body slightly forward. “you’re forgetting your place again.” he tilted his head, his face so close to yours that you could feel his breathing. with his other hand, he reached behind your back, unhooking your bra with ease and removing it from your body, leaving you now completely naked.

your body shivered at the thought of being completely naked in front of him, your legs squeezing together to relief some tension.

“maybe you don’t get to get fucked, what do you think?” your eyes widened at his statement, your head shaking quickly.

“no, no! i’m sorry.” you tried coming closer to him but the grip on your neck got tighter, keeping you in place.

“i don’t know… you’re not really behaving that well, telling me what to do.” you started feeling your wetness dripping from your hole again, your clit pulsing at his words. god he was such a tease.

“i’ll be a good girl, promise.” you pleaded as your eyes glistened with the thought of not having him inside you.

he stepped back, removing his hand from your neck but leaving a faint shade of red around it. he ran his fingers through his hair, looking down at you and then around the room.

“i just don’t think you deserve it anymore, baby.” his hand palmed himself through his underwear, the outline of his cock so clear through the fabric, and panic settled in you.

“no please!” you cried out, kneeling down on the bed, your hands resting in front of you on the mattress. “i deserve it, please, i’ll show you. i can be a good girl.” you felt your eyes watering and jungkook’s cock pulsed at the sight of you. “i’m sorry i told you what to do.” you crawled closer to him, your hand replacing his on his bulge, stroking him through the fabric. he groaned under his breath.

“you’re such a whore.” he murmured, his hand caressing the back of your head. “how much do you want this cock?” his lids were heavy.

“i want it so bad.” you whimpered, your fingers hooking under the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down and freeing his throbbing dick, slamming against his lower abs. your tongue ran over your lips before taking a long lick from the base of his cock all the way to the tip, your doe eyes locked with his the entire time.

“fuck baby…” he breathed out, chocking back a moan. “you’re gonna suck it aga— ahh” he moaned as you took him all in your mouth with no warning, gagging as your nose touched his pelvic area, staying still for a moment, your tongue running over his pulsing vein, before you removed your mouth again, staring back at him with watery eyes and the sweetest smile you could mustered.

he tried catching his breath, and you felt a sense of pride when you realized he was rather speechless.

“do i deserve it now?” your voice was sweet, contrasting with what you’d just done. he couldn’t help but let go of a small low laugh, before setting his eyes back on yours, your body flinching slightly and a whine ripping out of you when you felt a slap on your cheek. you chuckled mischievously, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip.

“i’m gonna ruin you, baby. you hear me?” he grabbed you by your chin, his gaze sinking into you. “you’re mine.”

this time you were able to free yourself quick enough to pull yourself up and plant a kiss on his lips, your arms wrapping around his neck just for one second before he quickly grabbed them, turning you around, your face falling head first into the mattress, his hands manhandling you into a doggy position, his hand pressing your head down, giving you no room to move, while the other perked your ass up, your back bending in a way you didn’t think possible.

with no warning he entered you. you released a guttural moan, gasping for air, as he started fucking you senseless. no time to adjust, no slow start, nothing. just deep, hard thrusts, your mind a complete mush, the force of his movements making your ass ripple back into him, the sounds of your skin slapping against each other and the squelch of your wet pussy filling the room entirely.

“such a fucking whore.” he groaned, his fingers intertwining with your hair, forcing your head down and your moans and cries to be muffled by the sheets. “what would your daddy say if he knew his precious daughter was being fucked like this in his bed huh?” you whimpered, his words making your stomach twist, your clit pulsing harder than before. the imagery was as filthy as it could get, but it felt so incredibly good. the sharp sting of a slap in your ass brought you back from your thoughts and you realised you were practically drooling all over the sheets.

“that’s my good little girl.” he was breathless, his thrusts getting harder and deeper. “you take my cock so well, i can’t get enough of this pussy baby.”

you felt it, it was so near you could cry. “kook— please… i’m— uhh” your muffled moans slipped your lips shaken and broken. you couldn’t even from actual words.

“i know baby.” he cooed, this time the grip on your hair softened and he moved the strands away from your face, watching your fucked up face, moaning, drooling, a fucking mess. his cock throbbed inside you. “cum for me ba—by. c’mon.”

that was enough to sent you over the edge. you couldn’t hold it in anymore. your walls clenched around him, your orgasm washing over you for the second time, so intense you forgot about everything around you. a few more thrusts and you suddenly felt empty, a whimper escaping your mouth at the feeling.

“come here baby.” you felt his fingers wrapping around your arm, pulling you back and turning you around on your knees. your head felt lightweight, the room felt too bright to function. “open your mouth.” you forced yourself to look up at jungkook. he was kneeling in front of you, taller, his hand pumping his cock vigorously, wet.

you opened your mouth slightly, your eyes flickering and your tongue sticking out instinctively as he tapped the tip of his cock on it, his hand still working on the rest of his length.

in a brief moment he was cumming all over your tongue, a low grunt slipping from his lips, and you felt the warm thick substance spreading inside your mouth, some spurs landing on your cheek.

“good girl.” he breathed out, coming down from his orgasm. “swallow everything.” you happily complied, swallowing and wrapping your lips around the head of his cock, sucking every last drop he gave you.

he let go of you and you fell sat on the bed, still dazed. his thumb ran over your cheek, collecting a drop of cum that had been left there and forced his digit inside your mouth, to which you sucked eagerly, your eyes locking in with his, a proud smirk on his face.

he kissed your lips softly before getting up from the bed, walking towards the attached bathroom in the room. you laid back in the bed, your hands covering your face and feeling your cheeks burn.

“what have we done, jungkook.” you whined, receiving a small laugh from him as he exited the bathroom again, some paper in his hands.

“you’re gonna tell me you didn’t like it?” he smirked, sitting down next to you. your body flinched when you felt him swiping the paper over your sensitive clit, cleaning you up.

“it’s my parents’ bedroom!” you prompted yourself on your elbows to look at him. “you’re insane!” you shot at him outraged.

there it was that mockingly laugh again. “i don’t remember you ever telling me to stop.”

you knew he was right. it was as much your fault as it was his, if not more.

you quickly got up, grabbing your clothes scattered all over the floor. “quick, help me clean everything up.”

he got dressed as he watched you frantically run around the bed, pulling at the sheets, searching for stains, fluffing the pillows and he grinned. no matter how much he was able to corrupt you during sex, you were always gonna be this girl. worried about your parents, rule abiding, sweet, well behaved good girl. and he loved it.

“gotta go baby.” you stepped closer to you, one hand softly on the back of your head while he planted a kiss on your forehead.

“already?” you whined but quickly caught yourself, not wanting to sound too desperate. “so you just come here to fuck me and then leave? ugh men are all the same.” you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms annoyed.

he chuckled. “i have to work you know?” his fingers brushed under your chin, lifting your head up to look at him. “not everyone is a spoiled little girl.” he tilted his head smirking and you slapped his arm away, walking to the other side of the room, earning a laugh from him. “besides, i thought that was our arrangement.” he frowned his eyebrow. “is it not?”

you swallowed dry, taking in the sight of him. his dark hair messy, his fingers rolling the sleeves of his shirt exposing his tattoos, his jeans still unzipped and unbuckled, showing the hem of his underwear.

you were getting distracted.

“yeah—“ you cleared your throat. “yeah, it is.” your cheeks flushed.

“alright then.” he finished buckling his belt and walked over to you. “walk me to the door?”

you both walked down the stairs in silence, stopping at the front door, where you pulled it open. he took a step outside and turned back around, leaning one of his hands on the door frame and reaching down to kiss you on the lips. you didn’t wanna stop, you could kiss him until your lips got tired, he tasted so good. he pulled away.

“text me when you want this dick again.” he laughed and you slapped his chest, rolling your eyes. “bye baby.” he grabbed your chin and planted one last kiss on your lips before turning around.

suddenly both of you stopped in your tracks as you saw your front neighbour watering his lawn, staring directly at you. your eyes widened, waiting for something to happen… a piano landing on top of you maybe.

to your surprise, jungkook raised his hand at him, waiving slightly, before taking his helmet and placing it on his head. that man was truly unbothered. he got on his motorcycle and turned the engine, rumbling loudly. he waved at you and just as quickly he was out of your sight, the sound of his bike disappearing in the distance.

you glanced back at your neighbour, an old bald guy with a belly so big you could’ve swore he was pregnant if he wasn’t a man. he shook his head at you disappointingly and you nervously smiled, closing the door in front of you.

you leaned back against the door, a long sigh, you didn’t realise you were holding, leaving your lips.

the first thing everyone noticed about kim taehyung was his smile. not because it was kind or genuine. because it was the kind of smile that came from never having to worry about a day in his life.

at least, that’s what you thought.

at haneul academy, where designer uniforms somehow existed and students arrived in cars worth more than the average person’s yearly salary, taehyung fit in perfectly. he belonged there. his friends belonged there. they moved through the hallways like they owned them, laughing too loudly, acting as if the world had been built specifically for their convenience.

and maybe it had.

you watched from your seat near the window as taehyung walked across the courtyard, surrounded by the usual crowd. girls smiled at him. teachers excused him. students followed him.

you rolled your eyes and returned to your notebook.

“you’re staring again.”

“i’m not staring,” you muttered.

your friend snorted. “right. you only look at him like you’d happily shove him down a flight of stairs.”

that wasn’t entirely wrong.

the truth was, you didn’t know kim taehyung personally, but you knew enough. you knew his family owned half the city, you knew he lived in a mansion so large it had more bathrooms than your apartment building had tenants, and you knew your mother spent six days a week cleaning that mansion.

that last part was the reason you disliked him and the kim’s the most.

every evening your mother came home exhausted. her hands were rough from cleaning products, her feet swollen from standing all day. yet whenever you asked about her employers, she’d simply smile and say everything was fine.

you never believed her.

there were too many moments that didn’t add up. too many stories she stopped halfway through. too many times you’d caught the tired look in her eyes before she forced another smile.

something about that house never sat right with you. and if there was one thing you were certain of, it was that people as rich as the kims rarely noticed the people cleaning up after them.

you had no idea that in less than twenty-four hours, you’d be standing inside their mansion yourself.

—

every weekday, without fail, your mom was out the door before you even finished getting ready for school. that’s why you knew something was wrong the moment she didn’t leave for work that morning.

that morning, the apartment was quiet. too quiet.

“mom?”

you found her curled up on the couch beneath a blanket, her face noticeably paler than usual. she looked up when she heard you.

“you’re still here?”

you frowned.

“you’re one to talk.”

even from where you were standing, you could tell she wasn’t well. there was a sheen of sweat on her forehead despite the cool air coming through the open window. her eyes looked heavy and exhausted. the kind of exhausted that sleep couldn’t fix.

“mom…”

“i’m fine.”

the lie came automatically. it always did.

you walked over and pressed the back of your hand against her forehead. your eyes widened instantly.

“you’re burning up.”

she sighed. “it’s just a fever.”

“just a fever?” you repeated. “you can barely keep your eyes open.”

for a moment, neither of you spoke. then her expression shifted. hesitation, something you rarely saw from her.

“i already called the kim residence.”

your stomach sank. of course she had.

“mom—”

“they’re expecting someone to come in today.”

you stared at her. your mother was sick enough to barely sit upright, and they were worried about who was going to dust their shelves and polish their marble floors?

surely she wasn’t suggesting—

“absolutely not.”

“y/n.”

“no.”

“y/n.”

you groaned and dropped your head into your hands. she laughed weakly before immediately regretting it, wincing as another wave of exhaustion hit her. that alone was enough to make your guilt flare. because if your mother was asking for help, she had to be feeling terrible.

“please,” she said softly. “just for today.”

you looked at her for a long moment and then sighed.

“fine.”

her shoulders visibly relaxed while yours did the exact opposite.

—

two hours later, you found yourself standing in front of the largest house you’d ever seen. technically, you’d seen it before. everyone in seoul knew the kim residence. it was the kind of place people pointed at from behind car windows or appeared in magazine articles about wealth and success. the kind of place where people like you didn’t belong. you tightened your grip on the strap of your bag and stared up at the iron gates.

this was ridiculous. you should have been at home. instead, you were standing outside kim taehyung’s mansion. the gates opened after a brief exchange through the intercom and by the time you reached the front door, your stomach was already in knots.

a woman answered almost immediately, elegant, perfectly dressed, perfectly composed. she looked exactly how you’d imagined kim taehyung’s mother would.

her eyes swept over you just enough to make you feel like you were being assessed and judged.

“you’re her daughter.” it wasn’t a question.

you nodded. “yes, ma’am.”

“i expected your mother.”

heat crept up your neck. “she’s sick,” you said, trying not to sound defensive. “she has a high fever.”

for a moment, mrs. kim simply looked at you and then she sighed, not dramatically, just enough for you to notice.

“i see.”

silence stretched between both of you and you waited for instructions but none came, instead, she stepped aside.

“well. come in.”

you followed her into the house. the entrance alone was larger than your apartment. marble floors, crystal chandeliers, floor-to-ceiling windows, everything gleamed and looked expensive, but also everything felt cold.

mrs. kim continued walking without checking whether you were following.

you hurried after her. “what exactly would you like me to do?” you asked.

she glanced at you. “the usual.”

you blinked. the usual? that was incredibly helpful.

“my mother normally handles different areas of the house.”

“then i’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

you bit the inside of my cheek, hard, because you had a feeling that if you opened your mouth, you wouldn’t like what might come out.

you stopped outside a room near the back of the house.

“there are spare uniforms in the laundry room.”

of course there were uniforms.

“change into one before you start.”

before you could respond, she was already walking away.

“wait—”

she paused, barely.

“yes?”

you swallowed your frustration.

“where should i begin?”

mrs. kim looked at you as if the answer should have been obvious.

“wherever needs cleaning.”

and with that, she disappeared around the corner.

you stared after her for several seconds, then let out a long breath. unbelievable.

a rack of neatly pressed uniforms stood against one wall and you immediately regretted looking at them.

“you’ve got to be kidding me.”

the dress was black with a white apron sewn into the front, long sleeves, a high collar, hemline just below the knees. it looked less like a cleaning uniform and more like something from a low-budget period drama, or worse, some rich person’s idea of what a housekeeper was supposed to look like. suddenly, your mother’s complaints about uncomfortable work clothes made a lot more sense.

you held the dress up in front of you. it was ridiculous and humiliating, but somehow exactly what you’d expect, because apparently cleaning an already spotless mansion wasn’t enough, you also had to look the part.

—

by the time you made it to the second floor, you were exhausted. the house was enormous, unnecessarily enormous. you spent the last few hours moving from room to room, dusting surfaces that were already spotless, wiping counters that barely had a fingerprint on them, and vacuuming carpets that looked as though nobody had ever stepped foot on them. at some point, you had stopped wondering why a family of three needed this much space.

you had also stopped expecting any further instructions. mrs. kim hadn’t reappeared once. not that you were complaining, the less you saw of her, the better.

you pushed open another door. immediately, you knew whose room it was. the expensive sneakers, the designer jackets tossed carelessly over a chair, the framed photos. the unmistakable sense that whoever lived here had never once worried about the price of anything.

kim taehyung’s bedroom. of course.

you rolled your eyes, then got to work. the sooner you finished, the sooner you could leave. most of the room was easy enough. dust, vacuum, wipe down surfaces, repeat.

you were cleaning the desk when you noticed one of the drawers hadn’t closed properly. you pulled it open, mostly out of habit and inside were a few notebooks, loose papers, and various things that looked unimportant. the moment you touched the pile, something slipped loose. a small black notebook fell from the back of the drawer and landed at your feet. you stared at it for a second. the cover was plain and unmarked. for a moment, you considered putting it straight back, but instead, curiosity got the better of you.

just for a second, you opened it and froze. the pages were filled with sketches, dozens of them. some rough, some unfinished. others so detailed they looked almost alive. your eyebrows slowly lifted.

well… that was unexpected.

you turned another page, then another, and another. you weren’t even sure why i kept looking, but maybe because none of this matched the image you’d built of kim taehyung, the arrogant rich boy, the spoiled heir, the guy who walked through school like the world belonged to him. this felt… different. human. another page, then another, and suddenly your breath caught. you knew that face. you stared, blinked and looked again. there was no mistaking it. the sketch wasn’t finished, just pencil lines and soft shading, but you could see it, sitting by the classroom window, one elbow resting against the desk, looking at something beyond the frame. your stomach twisted.

is that… me?

before you could make sense of it, laughter echoed from somewhere down the hallway. your head snapped up. voices. male voices. getting closer. much closer. your heart sank.

oh no.

you immediately shut the notebook as the voices were right outside now.

“i’m telling you, you cheated.”

“i literally didn’t.”

“you did.”

“why would i do that?”

“because you always cheat.”

the bedroom door swung open, and there he was.

kim taehyung.

followed by jeon jungkook and park jimin, the unofficial kings of haneul academy. or at least that’s what half the student body seemed to think. the argument died instantly and all three of them froze, because standing in the middle of taehyung’s bedroom was the last person any of them expected to see.

you.

and unfortunately, you were still holding the notebook. for a moment, nobody spoke.

jungkook frowned. “don’t we know her from somewhere?”

jimin snapped his fingers. “she goes to our school! i think…”

“does she?”

“pretty sure.”

you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. same school, same hallways, same classes sometimes, and somehow you were still invisible.

your gaze shifted to taehyung. unlike his friends, he wasn’t squinting at you like he was trying to solve a puzzle. he recognized you, you could tell, the brief flicker of recognition in his eyes gave him away. but that wasn’t the only thing you saw. for the first time since he’d walked in, his attention dropped to the notebook in your hands.

his notebook.

the notebook you definitely weren’t supposed to see. something flashed across his face—surprise, then something dangerously close to panic, gone so quickly you almost missed it. a second later, his expression smoothed over, carefully blank and controlled, as if he’d never seen you before in his life. and for some reason, that annoyed you more than if he’d forgotten you entirely.

for a few seconds, nobody moved, nobody spoke. you became painfully aware of the notebook still clutched in your hands.

right… that.

before anyone could say anything, you crossed the room and held it out.

“this fell out of your desk.”

smooth. very smooth.

taehyung’s eyes dropped to the notebook. “thanks.”

his fingers brushed yours as he took it. you immediately let go.

jungkook’s eyes moved between you.

“what is it?”

“nothing.” the answer came a little too quickly.

jimin noticed too, his eyebrows lifted slightly. taehyung casually tossed the notebook onto his desk.

“just a notebook.”

the look jimin gave him suggested he wasn’t entirely convinced, and neither was i. but before either of them could push further, their attention shifted elsewhere.

you.

and the humiliating uniform you were wearing.

jungkook looked you up and down, once, then twice, then smirked.

uh oh.

“wait.”

you already hated where this was going.

“are you actually cleaning?”

silence.

jimin blinked, then looked around the room, then back at you and burst out laughing.

“no way!”

heat rushed to your face.

“seriously?” he asked. “you?”

you gripped the cleaning cloth a little tighter. “what’s so funny?”

jimin exchanged a look with jungkook.

“nothing.” which, of course, meant the exact opposite.

“it’s just…” jungkook said, trying—and failing—to hide his amusement. “i didn’t know people our age actually did this.”

your jaw clenched, hard. there it was, that effortless superiority, the kind that came from never having to worry about money a day in their lives.

“well, now you know.”

“damn,” jimin said. “haneul’s expensive, huh?”

jungkook laughed. “apparently.”

every muscle in your body tensed. you were already embarrassed, already standing in the middle of taehyung’s bedroom dressed like some ridiculous caricature of a housekeeper. the last thing you needed was to become the punchline of their conversation. before you could say something you might regret, another voice cut through the room.

“that’s enough.”

the laughter stopped instantly, because the voice hadn’t come from you, it had come from taehyung. for a moment, nobody spoke.

jimin frowned. “what?”

taehyung didn’t look at him. his gaze remained fixed on you, or rather the cloth you were holding tightly in your hands.

“i said that’s enough.” his tone was calm.

jungkook exchanged a glance with jimin. confusion flickered across both their faces. clearly, this wasn’t the reaction they’d expected. honestly? it wasn’t the reaction you’d expected either.

jimin let out a short laugh. “we’re joking.”

“then find a better joke.” the room went quiet.

everyone was trying to figure out the same thing — why was kim taehyung suddenly acting like this?

finally, he looked at you, actually looked at you for the first time since he’d walked through the door.

“where’s your mom?”

the question caught you off guard.

“what?”

“your mom.” his brow furrowed slightly. “she’s usually the one who comes.”

for some reason, hearing him say that made your stomach twist. he knew, not just that she worked here, but who she was. he’d noticed.

“she’s sick,” you said. “high fever.”

something shifted in his expression. small, almost impossible to spot, but it was there.

“then why are you here?”

the question came out sharper than i’d expected, almost annoyed, as if he didn’t understand why anyone would let that happen.

you laughed, a short, humourless sound. “because someone still had to do the job.”

the moment the words left your mouth, you regretted them. they sounded more bitter than intended, but judging by the brief look on taehyung’s face, he’d heard exactly what you meant, and so had jungkook and jimin. suddenly, you wanted out, desperately.

“anyway,” you said quickly, stepping toward the door, “i should go.”

nobody stopped you, but as you walked past taehyung, you could feel his eyes following you.

a shiver ran down your spine, and suddenly, getting out of that room felt like the most important thing in the world.

—

the laundry room was quieter than the rest of the house, cooler too. you pulled the door shut behind you and let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. finally, alone.

your hands were still slightly shaking as you changed out of the ridiculous uniform, folding it with more force than necessary. this was supposed to be simple. clean the house, leave, forget the day ever happened. except nothing about today had been simple.

you exhaled sharply and reached for your bag.

“you don’t need to run away.”

your entire body froze. slowly, you turned around.

he was leaning against the doorway, like he belonged there, like he had every right to just walk in without knocking. which, apparently, he did.

taehyung’s eyes flicked over you once, quick, measured, then back to your face.

“i noticed you weren’t at haneul today.”

you blinked. “…what?”

his brow furrowed slightly, like the question was obvious. “you weren’t in class.”

you scoffed. “you notice that?”

that made something shift in his expression. not irritation but something more restrained.

“i notice things.”

“clearly,” you muttered, turning back to your bag.

silence stretched between you, uncomfortable and tight.

“you went through my things.”

your head snapped up. there it was, the tone had changed, colder and sharper now.

“excuse me?”

taehyung pushed off the doorframe and stepped inside. the door clicked shut behind him. your stomach tightened immediately.

“the notebook,” he said simply.

oh… that.

you straightened slowly. “it fell out.”

“you opened it.”

not a question, a fact.

“i didn’t—”

he raised an eyebrow and you stopped talking, because lying was pointless.

“…it was on the floor.”

“and that means you open it?”

his voice wasn’t loud and it didn’t need to be. it filled the space anyway. you crossed your arms. bad idea. because suddenly you were way too aware of how small the room was and how close he was standing now.

“it was in your drawer,” you said. “half-open. what was i supposed to do? ignore it?”

“yes.”

“seriously?”

taehyung tilted his head slightly, studying you like you were the problem he couldn’t quite solve.

“you should’ve left it.”

“right,” you let out a short laugh. “because that’s what people do when something literally falls in front of them.”

his gaze dropped for half a second, to your hands, then back to your face.

“you saw it.” the way he said it made your chest tighten.

not a question this time either. you didn’t answer, which was answer enough. something flickered in his eyes, annoyance, maybe even frustration.

“you weren’t supposed to see that.”

“so it is something.”

silence again, thicker now.

taehyung took another step forward, you didn’t move back. you should have, you definitely should have.

“you don’t understand what you saw,” he said quietly.

“then explain it.”

that made him pause, just for a second.

“why would i explain anything to you?”

you scoffed. “because i’m the one you’re hiding it from?” that landed, you could tell.

his jaw tightened slightly. for the first time since he’d walked in, his composure slipped, just a little.

“you don’t get to act like you know me.”

“i don’t want to know you,” you shot back immediately.

it was a lie and you both knew it. the air between you changed again. taehyung’s eyes held yours, longer this time, closer.

“no?” he said softly. “then why are you still thinking about it?”

your breath caught, because you hated that he was right.

“you drew me,” you said, voice sharper now. “don’t pretend i’m the one invading your privacy.”

something passed across his face, something darker.

“you shouldn’t have seen that.”

“you keep saying that,” you snapped. “but you’re not explaining why you did it.”

his eyes stayed on yours, like he was deciding how much truth was too much.

“you want an explanation?” he said finally.

your jaw tightened. “yes.”

then he exhaled through his nose, almost like he was annoyed at himself more than you.

“your mother showed me a photo of you.”

that made you freeze. “…what?”

his gaze didn’t waver.

“months ago, she was at the house and she had a picture on her phone.”

your stomach dropped slightly.

“she mentioned her daughter and showed me your picture like it was nothing.” he paused, just briefly. “i didn’t think much of it at first.”

his eyes flicked over your face again, slower this time. “but then i kept seeing you around campus”

your breath caught, even though you didn’t want it to. “and you decided to draw me?” you said, sharper than intended.

taehyung’s jaw tightened. “it wasn’t a decision.” he took a step closer. “it just… stuck.”

silence. the air in the room felt heavier now.

“that’s your excuse?” you asked quietly. “that you’re a stalker?”

“it’s not an excuse.” his voice dropped slightly. “it’s the reason. and i’m not a stalker.”

his gaze lowered for a second — to your face, then to your mouth, then back up again, like he was catching himself.

“you get stuck in my head,” he said, more bluntly now. your throat went dry. “and i draw things when i can’t stop thinking about them.”

this time, neither of you moved. the distance between you felt smaller than it should have. you should’ve stepped back but you didn’t.

“so that’s it?” you whispered. “you just… what? watched me and decided to draw me?”

taehyung let out a short breath. not quite a laugh, not quite anything light. “you say it like it’s simple.” his eyes held yours again. “it isn’t.” he paused. “i didn’t plan it.”

you forced your voice back into something steady. “and you thought that was normal?”

his gaze flickered, just for a second. “no.” honest, simple, no defence. just truth.

you tightened your grip on your bag and headed for the door.

enough.

whatever this was, you needed distance from it. from him.

your fingers wrapped around the handle. “goodbye, taehyung.”

you pulled the door open and barely made it a step. a hand closed around your wrist and your breath caught. before you could react, you were spun around.

the bag slipped from your shoulder, hitting the floor with a dull thud.

“what are you—” the words never left your mouth.

suddenly taehyung was right there, so close you could feel his breath against your face.

his hand was still wrapped around your wrist, the other came up to your face, his warm fingers brushing your cheek.

everything happened so quickly, you had no time to move, no time to react, no time to step away.

and then he kissed you. forceful, hard, teeth clashing against each other eagerly. your pulse hammered against your ribs and for a second, you forgot how to breathe, forgot where you were, forgot why you’d been trying so hard to leave.

all you could focus on was him.

the hand holding your wrist loosened slightly. not enough to let go, just enough to give you the choice to step back or to walk away.

you didn’t.

in an impulse, your hands reached for the back of his head, fingers running through his hair.

“fuck…” he muttered. “i’ve been waiting months for this.”

you felt that pulse again, but not on your ribs, lower this time.

“what about—“

“jimin? kook?” he chuckled against my lips. “my ps5 will keep them entertained for a while.”

his hands were now wandering through your body. greedy, hungry, grabbing at every little bit of flesh they could grasp, and still, it wasn’t enough.

you realised you still hadn’t stopped kissing. a couple minutes passed, maybe more, you couldn’t tell. you were lost in each other.

one of his hands slipped under your top, up your back.

god, his fingers were so soft.

you weren’t surprised. he hadn’t worked a day in his life.

for a moment you cursed yourself for not being able to stop. for having kissed this person you despised so much.

he replaced your lips for your neck.

“do you want this?” he was breathless. so we’re you.

you nodded.

“speak.” he left your neck. his eyes stared straight into yours.

“i— yes.”

“yes what?”

“taehyung, stop…”

he stepped back.

no!

his hands reached behind him and he leaned back into the counter next to him.

“i’m not gonna keep going unless you speak.”

your jaw was tight with a mix of frustration and something dangerously close to desperation. he was enjoying this, the power, the control. and you hated that a part of you was giving it to him.

you glared at him, your chest heaving. “you think this is a game? you think you can just—”

“i think,” he cut in, his voice dropping to a low murmur that vibrated through the small space, “that i’ve been thinking about this since the first day i saw that damn picture of you.” he pushed off the counter. “and i want to hear you say it. i want you to say it.”

he closed the distance again, but slower this time. deliberate. he didn’t touch you, he just stopped, a breath away, forcing you to be the one to close the gap or to turn and walk away for good.

“i hate you,” you whispered, the words tasting like a lie even as you said them.

you hated his privilege, his effortless life, the way he moved through the world like it was a playground built just for him.

a cocky, slightly mocking smile touched his lips. “i know. but that’s not what i asked.”

you took a ragged breath. “yes,” you said, the word barely audible. “yes, i want this. i want you.”

the smile on his face vanished, replaced by something raw and hungry. that was all the permission he needed.

his hands were on you again, pulling you flush against him. the kiss was different this time, no less forceful, but deeper. it wasn’t a question or a demand; it was an answer. a confirmation.

this was happening.

he lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he sat you on the cool edge of the countertop. the laundry room suddenly felt less like a utilitarian space and more like the center of the universe.

your hands fisted in the soft fabric of his expensive shirt, pulling him closer, needing more. he broke the kiss, his lips trailing a fiery path down your neck once more.

“you have no idea,” he breathed against your skin, his hands sliding up your thighs, under your skirt. “no idea how many times i’ve imagined this.”

you wanted to snap back with a sarcastic remark, something to regain the upper hand, but all that came out was a shaky gasp as his fingers brushed against the edge of your underwear. his touch was sure, practiced… infuriatingly so. he wasn't clumsy or hesitant. he knew exactly what he was doing.

your head fell back against the cupboard behind you, a dull thud that you barely felt. the world narrowed to the space between his hands and the heat pooling low in your stomach.

“look at me,” he commanded, his voice rough.

you forced your eyes open, meeting his in the dim light of the laundry room. they were dark, filled with a possessive glint that both terrified and thrilled you.

“i want you to look at me when i make you cum.”

the words were crude, vulgar, they should have made you sick. instead, they sent a jolt straight through you.

his fingers moved with a devastating rhythm over your clothed clit, teasing, circling, never quite giving you what you craved.

it was torture… exquisite, torturous pleasure.

“taehyung…” you moaned, your hips bucking against his hand, seeking more friction, more pressure. anything.

“yes?” he murmured, his thumb pressing down on your clit, making your vision white out for a second. “tell me what you want.”

“you,” you gasped. “i want you, please.”

he finally pushed the fabric aside and a single finger slid inside you. your body arched off the counter, a choked cry escaping your lips. he watched your face, his expression a mixture of triumph and something else. something almost like awe.

“so tight,” he groaned, adding a second finger, scissoring them, stretching you. “you’re going to feel so good around me.”

the thought sent a fresh wave of heat through you. he worked you with his fingers, his other hand gripping your hip, holding you in place as you writhed against him.

the coil in your stomach tightened, a familiar pressure building rapidly. it was too fast, embarrassingly fast. you were losing control.

“that’s it,” he encouraged, sensing your impending release. “be a good girl and cum for me.”

his thumb returned to your clit, rubbing tight, firm circles. it was the final push. the world splintered, a cry tore from your throat as your orgasm crashed over you, wave after wave of intense, overwhelming pleasure.

you clenched around his fingers, your body shaking uncontrollably.

through the haze, you felt him withdraw his fingers and heard the metallic sound of a belt buckle unbuckling and the zip of jeans.

your mind was still reeling, your limbs heavy and boneless.

he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down your legs and tossing them aside.

then he positioned himself between your thighs. the hard, hot tip of his cock, leaking with pre-cum and slicking your folds, pressed against your still-sensitive entrance. he didn’t enter you right away, he just stood there, looking down at you, his chest heaving.

“last chance,” he said, his voice strained. “tell me to stop.”

your answer was to wrap your legs around his waist and pull him towards you. he didn’t need any more encouragement. he pushed into you in one slow, deep stroke, stretching you, filling you completely.

a pained groan escaped your lips at the sudden, overwhelming fullness. he stilled, giving you a moment to adjust, then he dropped his forehead to your shoulder, his breath hot and ragged against your neck.

“fuck… you feel… so fucking good baby” the name caught you off guard. you clenched around him.

he started to move, setting a slow, deliberate rhythm. each thrust was deep, powerful, hitting a spot inside you that made you see stars. it wasn’t gentle or romantic, it was desperate, hungry.

his hands were everywhere, tangling in your hair, gripping your ass and sliding under your shirt to palm your breasts. he was touching you like he couldn’t get enough, like he was trying to memorize every inch of you.

you met him thrust for thrust, your nails digging into the hard muscles of his back through his shirt, pulling him deeper.

“please” you gasped. “harder.”

he growled, a low, guttural sound, and obliged. the pace quickened, the sounds of your bodies meeting filling the room, mingling with your ragged breaths and choked moans.

he shifted slightly, changing the angle, and suddenly you were seeing colours again.

“right there,” you cried out. “don’t stop. please, don’t stop.”

he didn’t. he drove into you relentlessly, his thumb finding your clit again, rubbing in frantic circles.

the second orgasm built fast, a tidal wave gathering force, ready to pull you under.

“taehyung…” you sobbed, your body tightening, on the verge of breaking.

“look at me.” he commanded, his voice rough with exertion. “fucking look at me when i make you cum.” his fist closed around your hair pulling just enough to make you gasp.

the way his eyes stared into yours, dark with lust, was your undoing. you shattered. your vision went white, your body convulsing as the most intense orgasm of your life ripped through you.

he only had time to cover your mouth with his hand before you let out the most lewd moan.

his rhythm faltered. with a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, a long, guttural groan tearing from his chest as he found his own release.

you collapsed against each other, a tangle of sweaty limbs and heaving chests.

for a long moment, the only sound in the room was your ragged breathing, the hum of the washing machine, a strange, domestic counterpoint to the raw, primal act you’d just committed.

his forehead rested against your shoulder, your bodies still joined. you could feel the frantic hammer of his heart against your chest, a rhythm that somehow matched your own.

reality was a cold bucket of ice water, flooding your system.

what had you done?

kim taehyung.

kim taehyung.

you’d had sex with kim taehyung, in the laundry room of his ridiculously ostentatious mansion.

“tae?” jungkook’s voice, faint but distinct, drifted from somewhere down the hall. “dude, your ps is bugging, we can’t fix it.”

your blood ran cold.

taehyung’s head snapped up, his eyes wide with a panic you’d never seen on him before. it was a jarring sight, the cool, untouchable heir suddenly looking like a teenager caught making out behind the bleachers.

he pulled out of you so fast you winced, the sudden emptiness jarring, forced to clench around nothing to prevent his seed to drop out of you.

“shit,” he breathed, scrambling to pull up his jeans. “shit. get dressed.”

your hands shook so badly you could barely button your shirt. your underwear was gone, presumably kicked under a cabinet in the heat of the moment. you were going to have to walk out of there commando.

fantastic.

“tae? you down there?” jungkook’s voice was closer now, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of footsteps on the marble floor.

“in here!” taehyung called out, his voice strained. he ran a hand through his hair, trying to tame the mess you’d made of it. he yanked his shirt down, trying to smooth out the wrinkles. “give me a sec!”

he turned to you, his eyes darting around the small room, looking for a solution, a lie, anything.

“go,” he whispered, gesturing wildly at the door. “just… go. i’ll say i was helping you find something for your mom.”

“what could i possibly be looking for in the laundry room?” you shot back, your voice a panicked hiss. “a spare uniform? that’ll be real convincing.”

“i don’t know, bleach!” he snapped, frustrated. “just say you needed bleach! you’re the cleaning lady’s daughter, you’re allowed to need cleaning supplies!”

the irony was so thick you could taste it.

you snatched your bag from the floor, your face burning with a mixture of shame and fury. you looked like you’d just been thoroughly ravished, your hair was a mess, your lips were swollen, and your cheeks were flushed. there was no coming back from this.

“wait,” he said, his gaze dropping to my neck. your stomach plummeted. you knew what he was looking for. “your neck.”

he reached out, but you flinched away. “don’t touch me.”

his jaw tightened, a flash of hurt crossing his face before being replaced by that familiar, blank mask. he grabbed a towel from a nearby shelf.

“hold still.” he gently tried to wipe away the evidence of his mouth on your skin, but it was pointless. the marks were already blooming, dark and angry.

jungkook’s footsteps were right outside the door now.

“tae?”

taehyung swore under his breath. he gave up on your neck, shoving the towel at your chest.

“hold this. against your neck.”

you took it, pressing the fabric to your skin. it was a pathetic attempt at a cover-up.

“just… try not to look like you’ve been fucked over a washing machine,” he muttered, opening the door a crack.

“ha-ha,” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

he slipped out, pulling the door almost shut behind him, leaving just enough space for you to hear.

“yo, what took so long?” jungkook asked. “we’ve been waiting.”

“nothing, just… had to help the new cleaning lady find something,” taehyung said, his voice impressively casual.

“the new cleaning lady?” jungkook repeated. you could hear the frown in his voice. “the girl from school? why was she in there with you?”

“because i’m a nice person, jungkook,” taehyung said, a hint of annoyance and sarcasm in his tone. “she was looking for bleach. i helped her find it. it’s not a big deal.”

“right,” jungkook said, clearly not buying it. “well, jimin’s about to give up and just start smashing buttons. you coming?”

“yeah, yeah, i’m coming.”

you waited until you heard their footsteps retreat down the hall before you dared to move. you took a deep, shaky breath, your legs still feeling like jelly.

you gave yourself one last glance in the reflective surface of the washing machine door. you looked wrecked.

with a final despairing sigh, you pushed the door open and slipped out, the towel still clutched to your neck.

you didn't look back, you didn't dare. you just walked, your footsteps echoing in the cavernous silence of the mansion.

the journey home was a blur.

the world outside the window of the bus was a watercolor painting, smudged and indistinct. your mind was stuck, replaying every moment, every touch, every word.

the feeling of his hands on your skin, the taste of his lips, the way he’d looked at you, the way he’d called you baby, and then, the cold, hard reality of it all. the interruption, the panicked dressing, the flimsy lie. this wasn’t some romance novel or a fairytale. you felt used, disgusted at yourself for betraying your own morals and beliefs.