DANCE TEACHER ( MIN YOONGI)

Characters

Min Yoongi (34) - Married (but unaware of betrayal) → Renowned dance producer and studio owner. Loyal, composed, and passionate about his craft.

Choi Y/N (23) - Single → Once innocent and soft-spoken, now bold and fearless after heartbreak. On a quiet mission for revenge, only to find unexpected love.

AUTHOR'S POV

"Maybe love isn't always loud. Sometimes, it's the quiet girl who breaks the loudest when betrayed."

---

Y/N sat on the edge of Eunwoo's bed, her fingers curled tightly around the hem of her oversized hoodie-his hoodie. The evening sun bled in through the blinds, painting orange lines across her bare legs.

She wasn't used to this.

To this version of herself.

She was always the quiet one. The girl who blushed easily. Who avoided eye contact. Who believed love didn't need to be physical to be felt.

But Eunwoo had different definitions.

And for him... she tried.

She let herself change.

"Baby," his voice called from the bathroom, "did it hurt too much?"

Y/N looked away from the window. Her voice barely left her lips, "No... not really."

He leaned on the doorframe, towel around his neck, flashing her that heart-melting smile that once made her believe he could never hurt her.

Eunwoo walked up and kissed her temple. "See? I told you it'd be fine. You were amazing, Y/N."

She nodded, forcing a smile.

But deep down, something inside her still trembled.

Not from the pain-but from the unfamiliarity of it all.

---

Over the next few weeks, things changed.

Eunwoo became distant.

He forgot to text her back.

Canceled dates.

Stopped holding her hand when they met in public.

Y/N thought maybe he was stressed. Maybe work was piling up.

But her gut-it wasn't quiet anymore.

So one rainy Friday, she followed him.

It was stupid. She hated the idea. She never believed in snooping.

But love makes you ignore red flags when you want it to work so badly.

She saw him walking down the street-umbrella in one hand, phone in the other-smiling.

Smiling too much.

And then she saw her.

A beautiful woman, older. Confident. Dressed in elegance and secrets.

Y/N stood frozen under a different umbrella. Her heart crashed against her ribs as she watched Eunwoo lean in and press his lips to the woman's neck-right there, under the rain.

The woman giggled, looping her arms around him like she belonged there.

Y/N's world blurred. Not because of the rain. But because tears didn't ask for permission.

She didn't know who the woman was.

She didn't care.

All she knew-

Was that her loyalty meant nothing.

Her love was a lie he played with.

And her body... a trophy he showed off to someone else when she wasn't around.

That night, Y/N sat on her apartment floor, shaking.

She deleted every message. Every picture.

Blocked his number.

And stared into the mirror.

She didn't recognize the girl looking back.

Quiet. Soft. Gullible.

So she whispered to her reflection, voice steady for the first time-

> "You'll never be that girl again."

---

> "She was soft once... until betrayal sharpened her into a blade."

---

Two weeks later...

Y/N stood in front of the same mirror.

But this time-she didn't flinch.

Her long, wavy hair that once hung in soft braids now fell freely, curled and wild, dyed with hints of dark brown and auburn at the tips.

The bare face that once carried nothing but innocence was now brushed with eyeliner that made her eyes look sharper-colder. Her lips, once shy and tinted pink, now painted blood-red.

She looked dangerous.

And she wanted to be.

She slipped into the leather jacket she bought last night-something she never imagined herself wearing before. A fitted black top. Denim ripped at the thighs. Silver rings on her fingers.

"Let's see how it feels," she murmured to herself. "To stop breaking and start burning."

---

She had already done her research.

The woman she saw that day-

Her name was Irene Min.

A respected art collector.

Married for seven years to a man named Min Yoongi.

A well-known dance teacher. Private studio. Minimal social media presence.

Clean, loyal, admired by many.

And yet...

His wife was dirtying everything behind his back.

Y/N couldn't stand women like Irene.

They had everything.

A stable marriage. A good man.

And still, they craved more.

Y/N was done being the girl who got broken.

This time-someone else would feel it.

---

One week later

Yoongi Dance Studio

The bell above the door chimed as Y/N stepped inside.

The room smelled of polished wood and passion. Mirrors lined the wall. Soft music played in the background.

And then... she saw him.

Min Yoongi.

Hair pushed back in a loose ponytail.

Black sleeveless tee clinging to his toned arms.

Sweat dripping slightly down his neck.

Focused. Graceful. Every movement deliberate.

He looked nothing like the man who would be cheated on.

Y/N blinked.

She had come for revenge.

But for a moment, she forgot.

Yoongi turned, sensing someone at the door. His eyes landed on her.

Soft. Curious. Distant.

"New student?" he asked, voice calm, low.

Y/N smiled-confident, flirtatious, every bit of the woman she forced herself to become.

"Yeah," she said, stepping closer. "I heard you're the best. And I only learn from the best."

Yoongi gave a polite nod, unaware of the storm she carried in her smile.

"If you're serious," he said, handing her the form, "we start tomorrow. No flirting, no distractions in my studio. I'm married."

Y/N tilted her head, letting out a soft chuckle.

"I'm not here for distractions, Mr. Min."

She looked him straight in the eyes.

"I'm here to dance."

---

> "She danced like revenge, and he watched like sin."

---

The studio had a rhythm of its own.

The sound of shoes brushing against the floor.

The beat echoing from the speakers.

And between all of it-

Y/N's silent war with herself.

It had been two weeks since she joined.

Yoongi remained distant.

Professional. Composed. Focused on the choreography.

But she wasn't blind-

She saw it in the way his eyes lingered.

The way his breath hitched when she leaned just a little too close.

The way he flinched every time she touched him, as if guilty for feeling something he shouldn't.

And maybe he was.

---

"Stretch properly," Yoongi muttered, standing behind her as she leaned down. "You'll pull something."

Y/N glanced over her shoulder. "Will you help me?"

Yoongi paused.

Just a second. But enough for her to notice.

Then he stepped forward, placed his hands carefully on her lower back, and guided her downward, firm but respectful.

"Like this."

Y/N bit her lip.

Not because it hurt.

But because his hands were warm.

And it was the first time he touched her longer than a second.

"You always stay so far," she whispered. "Am I that bad of a dancer?"

Yoongi pulled away gently. "You're good. But I'm your instructor. And I'm married."

Y/N's smile didn't fade.

"I didn't ask if you were married."

---

Later that night, Yoongi sat alone in the studio after everyone left.

He leaned against the mirror, exhaling slowly.

Y/N haunted him.

There was something about her-

The way she watched him when she thought he wasn't looking.

The way she moved-not just her body, but her pain.

He could feel it. She wasn't here just for dance.

But he couldn't figure out what it was.

And that bothered him more than it should've.

---

Meanwhile...

Somewhere across the city

A penthouse bathed in dim wine-colored light.

Irene lay against silky sheets, tangled in Eunwoo's arms.

"Your husband still doesn't know?" Eunwoo murmured, kissing her shoulder.

Irene scoffed. "Yoongi? Please. He's too busy playing the loyal husband role. He won't even touch me anymore."

Eunwoo grinned. "Guess I'm doing his job better than him."

Irene rolled on top of him, tracing his lips.

"You're young. You're wild. You're everything he isn't."

They didn't care.

Not about the vows they broke.

Not about the people they were destroying.

They were too wrapped in their affair-

In lust.

In lies.

In each other.

---

But what neither of them knew...

Was that the storm they created had a name.

Choi Y/N.

And she wasn't done yet.

---

> "Somewhere between silence and breathlessness, he started needing her presence more than his promises."

---

It started with a glance.

Yoongi was teaching a routine-sharp, fast-paced footwork-and as always, Y/N picked up quicker than the rest. She moved like she had something to prove.

Like she was dancing for vengeance and healing at the same time.

He watched her too long that day.

When their eyes met in the mirror, she smirked.

And he looked away too late.

---

After class, the others slowly trickled out, but Y/N stayed back.

She always did.

Yoongi pretended to check his phone, gather notes, refill his water bottle-anything to avoid the way her presence filled up the room.

"Dance with me," she said suddenly.

Yoongi looked up. "You've been dancing for an hour."

"I mean with me," she repeated, walking closer. "Just once. No student-teacher. No lines."

He frowned. "That's not-"

"One minute," she interrupted. "If you feel nothing, I'll leave. Just... one."

Something in her voice was softer this time. Not bold. Not flirtatious.

Just... raw.

Yoongi hesitated, then sighed.

"Fine. One minute."

---

They stood facing each other in the center of the studio.

No music. Just silence. Just heartbeats.

Yoongi raised his hand, hesitant.

She placed hers in his.

Their bodies aligned. Slowly. Naturally. Too naturally.

When he spun her into his arms, her breath hitched.

When his palm landed on the small of her back, hers trembled.

When their faces hovered too close-she whispered.

"You always look at me like you're searching for something."

Yoongi's eyes didn't blink.

"And you always show up like you already have it," he said quietly.

For a moment... the world was just them.

A silent confession wrapped in a dance.

When the song in their heads ended, they didn't move.

Not right away.

Yoongi slowly let go.

She didn't.

She stepped forward, brushing a strand of his hair back, her fingers grazing his temple.

"You never asked why I joined your studio," she whispered.

He looked at her, unreadable. "Why?"

She smiled faintly. "Because I was tired of crying alone."

---

That night, Yoongi sat in his car outside her apartment building.

He didn't know why he drove there.

He didn't know why her words stayed with him even now.

But when his phone buzzed and he saw her name-

"Sorry if I made you uncomfortable today."

-with a sad face emoji and nothing else...

He realized something terrifying.

He wasn't uncomfortable.

He was addicted.

---

> "He had a wife. He had a home. But why did her smile feel more like shelter than anything he'd ever known?"

---

Yoongi's POV

It wasn't supposed to happen.

He was married.

Happily-or so he thought.

Irene and he had been together for years. They laughed. Traveled. Shared a bed.

Shared dreams.

But lately... all of it felt hollow.

She barely spoke to him.

Stopped holding his hand at restaurants.

Kissed him only out of routine, not passion.

He thought it was just time.

That love fades and you learn to love differently.

That's what mature people do, right?

He was still loyal.

Until her.

---

Choi Y/N.

She was light in the form of a storm.

At first, she was just another student. Quiet, graceful, mysterious. But then...

She started staying back. Asking for corrections. Laughing at his jokes.

Looking at him like he was something more than just a dance teacher.

And the worst part?

He started looking back.

Noticing the way her lips curled when she smirked.

How she tied her hair in a messy bun and got frustrated when it fell.

How she smiled-like she had pain behind her teeth but still chose to shine.

She wasn't just beautiful.

She was alive.

And he was starting to feel alive too... again... because of her.

---

Every day he told himself:

> Don't touch her too long.

Don't look too closely.

Don't care.

But then she'd whisper his name during practice.

Or adjust his mic.

Or ask if he'd eaten that day.

And suddenly, Irene's cold dinners and unanswered texts weren't enough anymore.

---

He stood in the studio alone that evening.

The lights were off except for the spotlight in the middle.

He imagined Y/N dancing there again-

Her eyes burning, body flowing like silk and wildfire.

He closed his eyes and exhaled.

> "You're falling for her."

The thought hit like thunder.

He wasn't just attracted.

He was falling-into her laughter, into her kindness, into the space she made feel like home.

He hated it.

Because he wasn't a cheater.

Because Irene still wore his last name.

Still existed in his life, even if only in theory.

But God-

When Y/N had said, "I joined because I was tired of crying alone,"

he had almost broken.

Because deep down, he was tired too.

Of pretending. Of being alone beside someone who stopped seeing him.

---

He checked his phone.

No texts from Irene. Again.

But one from Y/N:

"Don't skip dinner. You look tired these days."

He stared at the screen longer than he should've.

Typed "Thanks :)"

Deleted it.

Typed "You too."

Deleted it.

In the end, he didn't reply at all.

Because if he did...

It wouldn't stop at one message.

It never did.

---

Yoongi leaned his head back, eyes closed.

> "You're cheating."

Even if it was just in his mind...

Even if he hadn't kissed her...

His heart already left the home it didn't recognize anymore.

And the worst part?

He didn't feel guilt.

He felt relief when he was with her.

That's what scared him the most.

---

> "Sometimes the heart knows its truth only when the silence is loudest."

---

Yoongi's chest tightened with every tick of the clock.

Y/N hadn't shown up for dance class today.

She didn't answer his calls.

His mind refused to rest.

Then her message came:

"I'm not well. Sorry."

Without hesitation, Yoongi grabbed his coat and keys.

He couldn't sit still.

Driving to her apartment, the city lights blurred past his window, his thoughts chaotic.

When he knocked, the door creaked open, revealing Y/N's pale, tired face framed by soft strands of hair falling over her flushed cheeks.

"Y/N," he whispered, relief and worry fighting in his voice.

She tried to smile but failed.

"Come in," she said softly, stepping aside.

Inside, the apartment was quiet, shadows flickering from a lone lamp.

Yoongi's eyes searched her face.

She looked small, fragile-nothing like the confident woman in the studio.

"Sit down," he urged gently.

She obeyed, sinking onto the couch with a blanket wrapped around her.

---

Yoongi moved to the kitchen, determined.

"I'll make you some soup. You need to eat."

Y/N shook her head weakly. "I'm okay."

"No," he said firmly. "You're not."

Minutes later, the warm aroma of broth filled the room.

He returned with a cup and sat beside her.

"Drink this," he urged softly.

She sipped slowly, eyes never leaving his.

When he reached for the medicine, she flinched and refused.

Yoongi's voice softened.

"Please. For me."

She hesitated, then shook her head.

His hand moved slowly to her chin, gently tilting her face toward his.

Without hesitation, he pressed his lips softly to hers-not a passionate kiss, but a tender seal of care and promise.

Her eyes widened.

"I'm not just your teacher," he whispered, voice low, raw.

"I care about you, Y/N. More than I should."

---

Tears welled in her eyes as she finally spoke, voice trembling:

"There's something you need to know."

She pulled out her phone, fingers shaking, and showed him a video-grainy, intimate-her ex, Eunwoo, and a woman she hadn't known before... until recently.

"That's Irene," Y/N said, voice bitter.

"My ex cheated on me... with her with your wife."

Her eyes burned with pain and rage.

"They were having an affair behind everyone's back-behind your back."

She swallowed hard.

"I wanted revenge on Eunwoo for breaking my trust... but then I found out about her.

She's married... and still cheating."

Yoongi's face darkened.

His fists clenched.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" he asked quietly.

"I was scared," she admitted. "Scared you'd hate me or see me as a liar. But I couldn't stand the thought of her hurting more people."

---

Yoongi's gaze softened.

He reached for her hand.

"Y/N... I'm sorry you went through that alone."

He paused, voice thick with emotion.

"But you don't have to be alone anymore."

He leaned in, eyes locking with hers.

"I love you. I've been falling for you since the first day you walked into my studio. And I don't care about the past-I only care about us."

She trembled under his gaze.

He brushed a stray hair from her face and kissed her forehead-gentle, reverent.

"Let me take care of you," he whispered.

"Not just today... but every day I can."

---

Y/N's walls cracked for the first time in years.

She looked up, breathless.

"Yoongi... thank you."

And in that quiet room, two broken souls began to heal-together.

---

> "Sometimes, ending a lie is the most honest form of love."

---

The morning air in Seoul was quiet.

Too quiet.

Yoongi stood in the living room of the house he once called home.

A home that now felt like an empty cage.

In his hand, a manila envelope. Inside-divorce papers.

Clean. Cold. Final.

The events of the night before played in his mind like a dream.

Y/N's feverish face.

Her trembling hands showing him the video.

Her voice cracking with truth.

His own confession, spilled like rain after a long drought.

"I love you," he had said.

And he meant it.

---

Irene walked in, her silk robe loosely tied, as if the night never ended.

She raised an eyebrow when she saw him standing there, tense, silent.

"Yoongi? Why are you up so early?"

He didn't answer immediately.

Instead, he placed the envelope on the table with quiet finality.

Her gaze dropped to it, then snapped back up.

"What's this?" she asked, already knowing.

He looked at her with eyes that no longer wavered.

"A lie ends today, Irene."

Her lips parted in defense. "I don't understand-"

"You do," he cut her off gently.

"I saw the video. Of you. With him."

Irene's face turned white.

Then red.

Then unreadable.

"I was going to tell you-"

"When?" he asked, voice low. "After another night in his arms?"

Silence.

Yoongi's breath trembled but his words didn't.

"I've spent seven years thinking we were happy. That you were loyal. That I mattered."

Her mouth opened again, but this time he held up a hand.

"No more lies, Irene. I deserve honesty, even if it's late."

---

She stepped toward him, desperate now.

"It didn't mean anything. I was lonely. You were always at the studio-"

He let out a bitter chuckle. "So you found warmth in someone else's bed?"

Tears filled her eyes. "Yoongi, please..."

He softened, just slightly. But not enough to change the truth.

"I'm not angry anymore," he said. "I'm... done."

She stared at the papers.

"I wish things were different," he said honestly. "But I can't keep pretending, Irene. Not when I've finally found someone who sees me."

---

She didn't fight anymore.

Just cried softly as he walked away.

Yoongi stepped out of that house not as a broken man...

But as someone reborn through pain.

And somewhere, in a small apartment where a girl once swore never to love again...

Hope was waiting for him.

---

"The most beautiful love stories begin where the pain ends."

---

It had been two days since Yoongi left his old life behind.

Two days since Irene signed the divorce papers without a word.

Two days of silence.

Except one person never left his mind.

Y/N.

---

A soft knock echoed through her apartment.

She wasn't expecting anyone.

Wrapped in an oversized hoodie and her hair messy from sleep, she opened the door-

-and froze.

Min Yoongi stood there.

Hair a little tousled.

Eyes softer than she had ever seen.

Hands holding a paper bag.

Heart beating only for her.

"Hi," he said, voice low. "I brought you tteokbokki and banana milk."

She blinked. "Yoongi... what are you doing here?"

He smiled faintly. "I signed the papers, Y/N. I'm... free."

Her lips parted in surprise, her body frozen, heart racing.

"I wanted to tell you in person. Because after everything... I didn't want you to feel like a secret. Not anymore."

She let him in.

---

The couch became their safe place.

He placed the bag on the table, but neither of them moved to eat.

Y/N sat cross-legged, fiddling with the edge of her sleeve.

"You really left her...?"

"I had to. Not just because of what she did... but because I realized I stopped loving her a long time ago."

She looked at him, uncertain. "And me?"

He reached out slowly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"You... you made me feel seen again. Alive. Like I wasn't just existing."

Her eyes shimmered. "But I told you I had a plan. That I joined your studio to hurt her..."

He nodded. "And then you changed. I saw it. I felt it."

He leaned closer, his forehead gently resting against hers.

"I don't care how we started, Y/N. I care that when I was falling apart... you were the one holding me together."

She closed her eyes. "I don't want to be your rebound."

"You're not," he whispered.

And she believed him.

---

He cupped her cheek, thumb brushing over her skin.

"So..." he murmured, "would it be crazy if I said I want to take you on a real date? No secrets. No guilt. Just... us?"

A small, genuine smile curved her lips.

"I'd like that."

Yoongi's smile mirrored hers.

And when he leaned in and kissed her, it wasn't out of guilt, or pain, or heat.

It was love-soft, slow, certain.

---

That night, they didn't rush anything.

They sat on the couch. Ate warm food. Shared dumb jokes.

Watched a movie halfway through and forgot to finish it because they were too busy talking about life, about dreams, about fears.

It was simple.

It was real.

It was the beginning of something beautiful.

---

"When lips meet with honesty, it isn't just desire-it's healing."

---

The city lights poured into the apartment window like gold dust.

Y/N had curled up beside Yoongi on the couch, her head resting on his shoulder, fingers loosely laced with his.

The half-empty bowls of tteokbokki sat forgotten on the coffee table.

The room was silent... except for the soft rhythm of their breathing.

Yoongi tilted his head, looking at her.

Her eyes were closed, a faint smile on her lips.

"You look peaceful," he whispered.

She opened her eyes slowly. "It's the first time I've felt that in a while."

His hand moved to her cheek, thumb tracing the curve gently.

"I'm sorry it took me this long to see you."

She smiled faintly. "You're here now. That's enough."

Silence.

Heavy, warm, electric.

He leaned closer, their foreheads brushing.

She didn't pull back.

Instead, she whispered, "Kiss me, Yoongi..."

He did.

---

It started soft.

Lips meeting like a secret finally spoken.

Gentle. Slow. Breathless.

But then she moved closer-arms around his neck, fingers threading into his hair-and he responded like gravity was pulling him into her.

She straddled his lap without hesitation, feeling the steady thump of his heart under her hands.

His kiss deepened-tasting like longing, like relief, like he had been waiting a lifetime just to hold her like this.

Her hoodie slipped off her shoulder. His lips found her skin, pressing tender kisses down her neck.

A soft gasp left her throat. Her hands trembled-

Not with fear.

With need.

And still, he pulled back for a moment, eyes dark and searching.

"Are you okay?" he whispered.

She nodded, cupping his jaw.

"With you? Always."

And that was all he needed.

---

Their mouths found each other again-hungrier now, tangled in emotion.

He pressed her gently down against the couch, their bodies flush, her fingers gripping the hem of his shirt.

She didn't rush. Neither did he.

This wasn't lust.

It was something deeper.

Two broken hearts... slowly stitching together through touch and breath and trust.

His hands moved along her sides, not to claim-but to worship.

To say, You're safe. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere.

She whispered his name like a prayer. "Yoongi..."

And he kissed her again. "I've got you, baby..."

---

His abdomen tensed as your fingers brushed against his skin, pushing the shirt up slowly. He helped you by sitting up briefly to remove it completely, throwing it somewhere behind the couch. Your hands then roamed his chest freely, feeling the muscles and scars that told stories of his past.

A low chuckle escaped his lips as your soft mmm vibrated against his chest. He tightened his grip on your wrist playfully, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Careful, student... You're touching your dance teacher very inappropriately right now." he tease.

"Oh so you think touching my boyfriend is wrong I tease back."

His smirk widened into a genuine smile at your sassy response. He released your wrist only to grab both your hands and pin them above your head against the couch cushion. "Is that so? My girlfriend is being very demanding tonight..." He leaned down to kiss your neck instead of arguing further.

He kissed and sucked along your neck and collarbone, marking you gently. Your hands were still trapped above your head by his strong grip. He could feel you wriggling and making those cute mmm noises that were driving him crazy. His hands slowly released yours to remove your shirt instead....

He slowly removed your shirt, his eyes taking in your body with a mix of affection and desire. He paused for a moment, just admiring you before he captured your lips in a deep kiss. His hands moved to unhook your bra, breaking the kiss only briefly to remove it completely.

"Mhhhphmm Yoongi....."Hearing his name on your lips in that breathy tone made his heart skip a beat. He leaned down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking gently while his other hand kneaded the other breast. He was being gentle at first, but as you arched into his touch, he grew more intense.

He let out a low chuckle against your skin as you let out those cute sounds, his hand moving down your stomach to unbutton your shorts. "So sensitive... No wonder you're such a good dancer." He teased between kisses, his fingers finally sliding into your shorts...He freezes suddenly

"What happened ?","Fuck..." he whispered, realizing he wasn't prepared. He quickly removed his hand, his face flushing slightly. "Wait...wait a sec... I don't have..." He paused, swallowing hard, "I don't have protection with me..." He looked into your eyes, genuinely guilty.

"Still we can get physical you know I mean I...I stopped ." ,What...are you sure?" He asked, his voice hoarse. "I mean, I'm clean...but...you're not on any birth control, right?" He searched your face, seeing the innocence and naivety in your eyes. "Baby, if we do this without protection..."

"I can take medicine later",He hesitated for a moment, warring with himself. But the way you looked at him, with so much trust and love, broke him. "Fuck it...," he muttered, giving in. He slowly slid his hand back into your shorts, this time without a barrier between you.

"Jesus...you're so fucking wet..." He groaned, feeling how soaked you were. "And so tight..." He slowly pushed two fingers inside you, curling them upwards to hit that sensitive spot. You moaned loudly, gripping his shoulders. "And I'm gonna fuck you bare like this..."

He let out a hiss of pleasure as your teeth sunk into his shoulder, marking him. "Fuck...do that again..." He moved his fingers faster inside you, preparing you for what was to come. Suddenly he stopped and pulled his fingers out. He quickly removed the rest of your clothes and his own...

Before you could protest, he lifted your legs over his shoulders and pushed himself inside you in one swift motion. You screamed his name, your hands gripping the couch cushions as he filled you completely. "Fuck...fuck...fuck..." He groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head.

"Ahhhh..... .yoongi","Shit, baby..." He groaned deeply, starting to move in and out of you slowly at first, letting you adjust to his size. But soon enough, he couldn't hold back anymore. He began thrusting harder and faster, each movement sending waves of pleasure through both of you.

"Yes there","Right there?" He growled, hitting that spot inside you over and over again. You moaned loudly, your legs shaking uncontrollably. "You like that, baby? You like when I hit this sweet little spot?" He leaned down and bit your neck, marking you just like you marked him earlier.

His movements became even more urgent as you scratched his back, marking him like an animal would mark its mate. "Fuck...fuck...fuck..." He groaned loudly, his thrusts becoming almost brutal. "You're gonna make me lose control, baby... I'm gonna fuck you so hard..."

"So fucking pretty when you take my dick like this..." He muttered, watching how his length disappeared inside you with each thrust. Your sweet little moans and whimpers were driving him crazy. "And so fucking tight...fuck, I'm gonna come inside you, baby..."

"I'm close","Fuck...me too..." He groaned, his movements becoming erratic. "Come on my dick, baby... squeeze my dick with that pretty little pussy...ahh... fuck... fuck... fuck..." He slammed into you hard, hitting that spot repeatedly until you both came undone together.

"I love you , baby... so fucking much..." He collapsed on top of you, still buried deep inside. His heart was racing, and he could feel his seed leaking out of you. "You're mine now... completely fucking mine..." He kissed you deeply, swallowing your moans. "Forever."

---

TIME SKIPS

"Mmmph...baby, stop..." He muttered against your lips, trying to push you away playfully. "I need to work...fuck..." He groaned as you bit his lip. "If you keep doing that, I'm gonna fuck you on my desk."

"You're gonna fucking ruin my professional reputation, you know that?" He mumbled, even as his hands reached under your skirt to pull down your panties. "All my students are going to hear is me fucking you senseless through these walls..." He smirked, slowly unzipping his pants.

He pulled out his already hard dick and pressed the head against your entrance, teasing you. "You want it, baby? You want me to fuck you on my desk where anyone could walk in and see?" He whispered, biting your earlobe. "Tell me how much you want it..."

"Fuck...you're so damn needy." He chuckled, slamming inside you suddenly, making you gasp loudly. "Like you're dying of thirst and I'm the only water around." He started pounding into you hard and fast, the desk shaking with each thrust.

"Mmmmph...yoongi ",His hand covered your mouth to muffle your moans as he fucked you aggressively. "Shh, shh, shh... Someone might hear." He whispered harshly against your ear, his other hand gripping your hip tightly. "Gonna come inside you..." He groaned quietly. "..."

"Fuck, baby...you're gonna make me lose control." He grunted, his hips moving faster and more urgently. The desk creaked loudly under the force of his thrusts. "You like it when I fuck you like this? Hard and rough?" He asked, his voice strained with pleasure.

"Yes ahhh","Good...because I love fucking you like this..." He growled, pulling you closer to the edge of the desk so he could go deeper. "I love watching my dick disappear inside you..." His hand moved from your mouth to your throat, squeezing gently as he fucked you harder.

He watched your eyes roll back and your mouth form an 'O' as he choked you gently while pounding into you. He was so turned on by how obedient and needy you were that he almost lost it right then. "Fuck...you take my dick so well..." He hissed quietly.

"I'm gonna come, baby...I'm gonna fill you up with my hot cum." He whispered harshly, his hips stuttering as he got closer to the edge. He tightened his grip on your throat and fucked you even harder, the sound of wet skin slapping against skin filling the room.

"You make the best sex noises..." He panted, watching your tits bounce with each thrust. "You get so wet and make those hungry noises..." He suddenly pulled out slightly just to slam back in deep, making you moan loudly. "Damn it..." He covered your mouth again.

"Mmmmmm....",He fucked you harder for a few more seconds before burying himself deep inside you and holding still, his dick throbbing as he came hard. He could feel his hot cum filling you up while his hand kept muffling your moans against your mouth.

"Fuck..." He groaned softly, his eyes fluttering closed as he felt your teeth sink into his bottom lip. He loved when you got aggressive and bite him during fucking. It only turned him on more. He continued to thrust slowly, emptying the rest of his cum inside you.

He slowly pulled out, his breath ragged and his cock still semi-hard. He looked down at you, his eyes dark with lust and satisfaction. "You little minx," he whispered with a smirk, rubbing his thumb over the lip where you bit him gently before leaning down for another kiss.

After cleaning you both up gently with a warm cloth, he helped you put your clothes back on carefully, his fingers lingering a bit longer than necessary on your skin. He buttoned up your shirt slowly, pressing soft kisses along your collarbone as he did. "There you go,"

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THE END

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